Kisses

This is my very best friend in the Sandbox...the little girl, not the baby goat. On Christmas Eve she threw her arms around my neck and said 'Aunt Heather, you're my best friend. I love you sooo much'. It was pretty much the sweetest thing.

I'm certain that her mother was really excited when I taught her that when you put your cheek up to a baby goat and make kissy noises it will kiss you back. That's what I do these days...play with the little girls and little goats. It's a rough life!!

Construction

The house next door is no longer in existence. It used to be just an empty lot with about 10 guys living in it. Then one days they brought in a big old claw machine, I don't know what it's called, but y'all know, one of those big yellow construction machines. For 48 hours straight they just dug and now it's this huge hole. Notice the bed in the middle of the hole...every night the 'guard' climbs down there and 'guards' the big hole.
Word on the street, literally haha, is that they're going to build a 9 story apartment building. I just want to know where everyone is going to park. Of course it will take them at least 5 years to build this place and so it doesn't really relate to me, but still, you gotta think about those things.

So in the process of digging this hole they cut the phone lines in several different places. We don't actually have a landline phone so it wouldn't be a big deal except for that our Internet runs through the phone lines and so now we don't have Internet at our house. 10 days ago we asked the workers about it and they just looked at the cut lines and said 'they're broken'. We were like 'exactly...how are we gonna fix this?' and they said 'oh, well the Eed is in 3 days. We'll fix it after that'. What I want to know is what were they doing in the 3 days leading up to the Eed that they couldn't fix them.

Thing is, we got out of all this pretty lucky. Our house is the last house on the street that has water. Apparently they cut the water lines too. We asked if they were going to fix that and they said 'well, the Eed is in 3 days. We'll fix it after that.' So everyone else down the street went without water for a week...I bet they were really wondering what the guys were doing for those 3 days. I guess we can't really complain too much about the phone lines.

Christmas Presents

Some of my best friends here gave me some of the best gifts. I got a bag of Doritos, a bag of tortilla chips, a local coffee pot and some local souvenir type things, a new shirt and a cool ceramic plate with the Lord's prayer written in Arabic.

Although, what do you get when you need to find a 3 year old girl a Christmas present in the Sandbox???

A Muslim Barbie. That's right. No blond headed, scantily clad barbies around here and definitely no Ken dolls!! Although interesting enough she has nothing, absolutely nothing, on under her abaya. Now how is that Muslim, I'm not really sure.

Recent Events

In recent events, Christmas was great. I had ham and lots of time with friends who have become like family over the past year and a half and it was great.

Random thing though, on Christmas Eve a friend came over and we took her home about 10:30 that night. On the drive home we saw a couple of weird things. First there were traffic cops out actually doing their job...I've never seen more organized traffic in my entire time here. Maybe there was some special event that I was not aware of, or maybe they always keep traffic orderly after 10 pm and I'm just not usually out that late so I've been missing it this whole time.

Second, there was a little fake flower market set up in the corner of the graveyard...it was full of Chinese people. We thought that maybe the flowers were real and it was a special market for Christmas Eve but when we got close we could see the glitter and the fake rain drops on each flower. We were really disappointed but I guess it serves us right for getting our hopes up...we should have known better

Third, there was a santa at this outdoor cafe and there was a backdrop and a photographer and people were taking their pictures with him. I know it's probably not weird to all of y'all who have been doing your Christmas shopping in a country where there's a Santa in every mall, but around here we don't have Santa Clauses b/c people don't really celebrate Christmas. Except for on this Christmas Eve there was the real santa claus taking pictures with people and then we also saw 4 life-size, fake ones in shop windows...it was really strange.

Here I am with a new little friend. Baby goats are really pretty cute and I like playing with them. Notice his momma has a bra on in the background?
A friends mom on the first day of the Eed. She sat next to us while we learned how to braid.

The school out in the camp offers women's adult education classes. They teach them how to read and how to sew and other practical things. They also do a tie-dye class, which they call 'tie and dye'. They invited me to their sale/show and tell when the 4 week class was over. Here's a pic of a few of the scarves that my friends made.

Hope everyone had a great Christmas. I'm supposed to plan a New Years Eve party. I've known about it for about 2 weeks but I forgot until a friend last week was like 'hey, we should do something for new year's eve' and I was like 'oh...oh yah, I'm supposed to be planning a party.'

In Arabic they call New Years the 'head of the year'. It's strange to learn things in Arabic that don't translate directly into Arabic...after a while you start to say it in English like it translates into Arabic and things come out weird. For example, last week I asked my roommate where her friends were going on their 'honey month'. She answered and the conversation continued until 5 minutes later when she realized that I said honey month instead of honey moon and she didn't even notice.

So Happy Head of the Year!!!

Cooking Lessons

My intestine braiding teacher, looking lovely. She loved that I was watching and that she was privileged to be teaching me this highly useful skill...she refused to let me touch anything. Sort of like Phoebe when she taught Joey how to play the guitar. I did NOT argue with her!!!

And thank goodness this was on the shelf...it meant that it was not in the lunch!!!

I Am Ready

For all of you who were worried about me, that I might not be ready for marriage I have news for you, I am now officially ready...not that there are many of you, I mean, I'm pretty certain most of y'all are confident I'm old enough, but if there happen to be any who are not...

Yesterday was the first day of the Eed (gross pictures to come and if you didn't catch last year's Eed, go to this link to scope it out: http://heathernafrica.blogspot.com/2006/12/2nd-a9ed.html) and I went to a friend's house and watched them slaughter their sheep. After that I hung out around the kitchen with the women, where they taught me how to cut up a sheep and cook it in some very interesting ways.

At one point one of the ladies called me over and asked 'are you married?' I told her no and she said 'good. Then watch this' and she showed me how to clean out intestines....and then how to braid them so that they will cook up well. After that she stood up and said 'so now you are ready for the marriage'.

Yep. Y'all watch out. I know how to clean and cook intestines. I'm not sure I will ever actually have to apply that talent...I'm pretty sure I hope I NEVER have to apply my skills, but if I do I will know how to do it well!

Driving

People around here always ask their kids if they want to go with us and all the kids start crying because, while they might not be scared of us when their parents are around, they are terrified that we might actually take them with us...except for this little guy.

This is Mary's little boy. His dad said 'you wanna go with them?' and he said 'only if I can drive'. He's 3!!! So my friend gave him the keys and Mohamed was out the door trying to figure out how to get in the car, he was seriously going to drive us.

When it was time for us to go he was so confused as to why he had to get out....we had all told him he could drive us wherever he wanted to go and then we kicked him out, took away the keys and told him he had to stay home. He was so sad but definitely the cutest!!!

Today's Visit

A few highlights from my visit in the village today:
**5 sweet children crowded around me on a bed while I tried to explain freckles and blue eyes in Arabic
**Beans, just beans and bread, for breakfast (no boiled stomach...woohoo!!)
**Asking children, for the very first time in their life, what they want to be when they grow up and then hearing the innocence of their answers
**Giving a child the idea that they can be anything they want to be
**Stopping everything in the middle of breakfast to tell an important story
**Being told that I am their sister and I'm not just welcome in their house but I am a part of it
**Sitting over tea and crying with my new dear friend
**Another story, this one about how we are all alike and in need

People here don't get to be what they want to be. It's all based on how far you go in school and then how you do with grades. For example, the students with the best grades become doctors...they don't get to choose. If they make straight A's they have to be a doctor or nothing. It's all ranked by your grades. So normally when I ask someone what they want to be they don't know what they want to be because they haven't thought about it...it wouldn't matter anyways, right? Today I sat with a 5 yr old future doctor and a 3 yr old future teacher. It was the sweetest thing to see them sitting in deep thought, contemplating on what they would like to do when they got older.

Then I sat with their mom Mary for a while and she was just so grateful. I didn't do anything, didn't bring anything with me or do something special for her that I would think she would be thankful for, I was just there. But she was so amazed that a white girl, especially an American girl, would come to her house and be comfortable with her and her children, not worried about what I am eating or that I might get dirty but just spending time with them. She told me that when she walks down the street Sandbox people see her only for how poor and simple she is, how she doesn't have henna or gold or pretty clothes, and they won't even look at her as they walk by. She thought white people were like that too, but she was wrong. Then she thanked me over and over for telling her stories and for talking to her like she is a normal person. She said 'I'm not educated, I don't deny that. But I'm also not stupid. People just assume that I won't understand things because I can't read, so they talk to me like a child. But you are so different. You see me, you know I am poor and uneducated and you still treat me like we are equal. No one does that.' That's the part where we both started crying.

It's days like today where I know that I am exactly where I need to be and I think I never want to leave. Tomorrow I may want nothing more than to be on the next plane out of here, but today...today was perfect.

Feliz Navidad

Today is Friday but here it's kind of like Saturday for y'all. Everything is closed and no one goes to work. So on Fridays I make it my personal goal to do absolutely nothing. And when I say nothing I mean to not get dressed appropriately and go outside, to stay in my apartment and watch movies or read or do whatever I want but basically to do absolutely nothing productive.

So this morning the weather was cool (about 90) and there was a nice breeze so I figured I'd go lay out on the balcony and read. I dragged the exercise mat out, sunscreened up, and literally laid out on my balcony for an hour or so. I cranked up the satellite radio country music for the neighborhood to hear and pretended that I was laying on the beach in Zanzibar or somewhere else equally amazing.

It wasn't such a stretch to pretend about the beach...I'm not joking when I say I live in a Sandbox, there is actually sand everywhere so the balcony was pretty dirty, hence the exercise mat being put to good use!!

Then Feliz Navidad came on the radio!!! Those Arab guys who run the satellite radio out of Dubai...they really know what makes good Christmas music. I did a little research and saw that today it's supposed to be 83 in the Big D. So really this morning it was just like I was right at home...warm weather, lots of sun and Feliz Navidad on the radio every 5 minutes. You might get a cold front every once in a while, but it always warms back up. For those of you who haven't experienced it, that pretty much sums up Christmas in my part of TX.

There Was A Monkey

There has been this monkey around for the past few months. One day it was at my boss's house sitting on top of a ladder eating a piece of pizze. One day it was in the tree at another friend's house. One day it was sitting on the fence of another friend's house, just swinging it's tail while their huge dog went nuts. This week it showed up at someone else's house.

Several things about this monkey 1) it is really really mean, 2) it has a rope around it's waist like it once belonged to someone, and 3) while I do live in Africa the desert isn't exactly a monkey's natural habitat so where did he come from? Strange.

This week it went to my friends house who have barbed wire along the top of their gate. They also have a 3 month old puppy. Several times now the monkey has gotten it's rope stuck in the barbed wire. Each time all the guys on the street nominate this one guy to help simply because he's a refugee from the west...not really sure what that's all about. The monkey actually bit the guy at one point. Ebola.

Well, probably not, but you really just never know...there is an outbreak in DRC. Monday I got a text message that said 'monkey got the dog...police shot the monkey in the street'. Enough said.

Glad to know that our faithful police force is up for the task of hunting and shooting monkeys in this densely populated urban area. I'm sure that they cleared all the people out of the street, captured the monkey somehow and then shot it from a safe distance b/c I know that they would never just open fire while there were people standing around and the monkey was running down the street...or would they?

How many times do you think a reasonable non-risk-taking person can be exposed to rabies in one week? That makes twice, not for me but for my friend, and the week's not even over!!

New Neighbor

I was at the doukan (little shop that sells cokes) next door to my house one day when this neighbor kid came up. He was about 12 and Arab from the Sandbox and we didn't say anything to each other (cultural norm) until the owner of the doukan says 'hey white girl, this kid's American too.'

We just kind of look at each other and I asked him his name. We'll call him Ali b/c I wouldn't dare call him Mohammed, even if that was his real name...I don't want to go to jail. So Ali was just like 'hey, cool, yah, I'm American too.' in this totally regularly accented English that did not sound like it should be coming out of his mouth. It was weird.

I asked him what state he was from and he said TX and I was like 'me too'. Then I asked him what city and he said DFW and I was like 'me too'. Then he asked 'what suburb?' and when I told him he said 'oh yah, I go to the mosque there.'

Being here and surrounded by mosques I hadn't really given any thought to the fact that there aren't a whole lot of mosques in the states and that my home town actually boasts the largest mosque in America. And then he said it so normally, just like any of us would have said 'oh yah, I went to university there' or 'yah, I go to church there'. I couldn't come up with anything else to say, I was confused and still trying to figure out how he could go to the mosque in my hometown when he said 'well, see ya later' and left.

It's really strange when your two cultures come together like that. I was really speechless...and over something so not that big of a deal. I guess it's a clash of cultures that I'm going to have to get used to, especially since I return to the states soon.

Working Hard

Remember the mud oven thing that my friend makes and sells for making coffee? (see link if you don't remember) http://heathernafrica.blogspot.com/2007/11/coffee.html

I made one!!!!

While I was at my friend's house she kept having to leave me alone while all these women came one after another to buy her ovens. After an hour she had sold about 6 so I suggested that we make more instead of just sitting there wasting time. She kept thanking me for helping her with her work and I kept trying to explain that I was really just playing in the mud and she was doing all the work but she didn't believe me.

All of the neighbors who came over to visit were so worried about me. They kept saying 'what about your pants?!?, What about your clothes?!?!' I kept telling them 'They're just clothes, I can wash them.' Eventually the other ladies who were sitting around watching us started answering for me and saying 'she can wash them' and then just giggling, it was lots of fun! But they just could not believe that this white girl was getting mud on her hands. And being pretty inexperienced at playing in the mud, I ended up with mud all over me, not just on my hands!!!

Of course my friend squatted like this the entire time. I squatted about 2 minutes, then had a seat in the dirt which is just absolutely something you never do...oops, blame it on not knowing the culture (even though I did) or on being the crazy white girl, whatever you want!!

PTL that my friends are sweet sweet women who offer me so much cultural grace it's ridiculous. I've heard that other foreigners here have not been afforded this grace, but don't worry, my friends didn't march through the street waving swords b/c I made a cultural mistake by sitting on the ground...even though I did do it intentionally!

Woah...that is scary!!

So Friday my friends and I started getting calls from all over the world to see if we were ok. We had no idea what was going on (I love it when this happens, it's not the first time!!) and it actually took us a while to figure out that there were some pretty big riots going on.

So there's riots, no big deal, we just stay inside and 'maintain a low profile', I've gotten to be a master at that. Last night was the first time I saw the news footage of what has been going on around here...those guys with all those swords actually did look a little scary!!!

But, more than likely (haha), the media is making a much bigger deal out of this than it really is...and the fact that not even the locals on the ground here knew what was going on but the international media was present at the riots has caused even the locals to think it was all a big show/media event to take attention off of some of the other major issues going on in the Sandbox. Wouldn't be the first time!

So for all of you who are following the news, it's not that big of a deal and everyone I know and everyone they know, we're all just fine. Life is going on like normal, although who knows what could happen tomorrow!!! Thanks for all your thoughts!!

Goats Can Get That?

All this time I've been worried about this hemorrhaegic (sp?) fever outbreak (similar to ebola, no treatment if you get it) that I forgot to watch out for the other normal but random diseases.

Today I spent my entire morning running around town with a possibly rabid goat trying to determine if I had, in fact, been exposed to rabies. Turns out the goat does not have rabies, although goats can get it, who knew?!?

What did you do today?

Everyday Battles

I think this picture is the best representation I can give you of the place I live in. In every imagineable way, physically, emotionally, mentally and the unmentioned 'other', people here are dry. Anything I throw out there lands in places like this and we all know what happens to seeds after that. Even me and my friends while we are here, we all just feel so dried up.

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling great. Things were going good and I decided that I would go visit my friend Mary. I have this special gift that I still haven't been able to give her and I resolved that I was going to go see her and give her the gift. The very minute that I made the decision I threw up.

Sorry that's kind of gross, but I did. I immediately recognized it for the battle that it was and not just another stomach thing and decided that I was going to press through. So I got dressed, threw up again, and headed out for Mary's.

We had been there only about 5 minutes when some little kids came in and started saying something about our car and the 'neFFis'. I don't know what 'neFFis' means but I know that 'nefs' means 'the same' and we were driving a different car than usual so I thought they were just pointing out that we weren't in the same car. Then a grown man came in, pulled my friend outside and showed him the nail in the tire where the 'neFFis' (air) was coming out.

Since we were in a different car and unsure of the spare tire situation we kind of needed to get back to town quick to avoid being stuck out in the village forever. Mary tried to make us stay and eat the bananas and drink the coke that we'd brought for her family but we really didn't know what we would do if we got stuck out there so we went home. When we got home I barely made it in the gate before I threw up in the front yard. Again, sorry it's gross, but that's life here and at least I didn't do it in the street in front of all the neighbors!!!

But the tire just helped to affirm that the throwing up really was more than just a bug and it's just a small example from this huge battle that we fight in this dry place on a daily basis. I know the present I have for Mary is really special and important but I did not see this battle coming, which makes me think that it will be even more special to her than I imagined.

We are planning to go back one day next week and deliver some more coke and bananas and other things...I'm not gonna lie, I'm kind of dreading what will happen that day to keep us from getting there.

Yesterday in My Life

Here's what I did yesterday:

I visited this family and played with this little baby boy...now don't be deceived by the pink blanket (despite the fact that it was 100 degrees) or the pink clothes that you can't see underneath the blanket. The baby is about 3 weeks old and for the first week or so I kept referring to it as 'she'. I think that the mom thought I was just confused on my Arabic and that I knew it was a boy but just didn't know how to talk about it as a boy b/c yesterday she referred to it as a 'he' and I was like 'oh, it's a boy?!?' Good thing she wasn't offended!
Then I played with this little girl...I know, work can just be so hard sometimes!!

I did some other things but no more pictures will load so you'll just have to guess what it was. Now today I'm having some sort of 24 hour bug type thing...at least I hope it only last 24 hours b/c whatever it is it really stinks. Anyways, I sure hope none of the above kids got it.

Although I shake about 100 snotty little hands every day I go out (see friend in above pic) so more than likely I probably got it from one of them. Maybe the Purell hand sanitizer really isn't as good as it's supposed to be...

Glasses

Notice that one of the lenses is missing? This kid spent a good 15 minutes looking around trying to figure out what was different...it was pretty much the cutest thing!

Class Pets

I never realized how much having a class pet in elementary school could affect your life. Looking back, do y'all remember all your class pets or is it just me? I especially remember the 2 praying mantises (sp.?) we had in 2nd grade. They were pretty gross and at recess the boys would take them out and play with them. Over long holidays someone had to take them home but there was this one kid who liked bugs and snakes and so he always volunteered.

Anyways, so life goes on over here and I was recently reminded of how great or just how incredibly horrible class pets can be. It's a good thing my second grade teacher didn't allow us to name our insects. We never voted and decided on one specific name, although what a great way to teach young kids about democracy...maybe that's the underlying issue here...hmmm.

If you've been reading the international news lately you might have heard a story about a class pet around these parts. It's funny. I've been living in the Sandbox for a while now and I've gotten so used to the tension that a lot of times I forget about it. Over time strange things become normal and then they fade into the background of life, until something happens and I'm suddenly reminded of how things are not OK here, this isn't a peaceful country and there are people here who do not like foreigners and are just waiting for a reason.

One of my friend's moms is here this week. We were talking with a local friend and it came up that she teaches at a school in the states that is very close to an airport. The guy we were talking to was totally confused about how they could maintain order in that school, how the kids weren't totally afraid and hiding under their desks every time an airplane passed by. He didn't realize that our country is actually a peaceful place where airplanes don't necessarily mean that the bombs and the bad guys are coming.

He told us his story. He was 12 and going to school in another village when the planes came. They dropped some bombs nearby and all the children ran into the woods to hide. Next the bad guys came, killed everyone they found and burned the village down. He said he and his friends didn't know where they were going, they just ran as fast as they could. Last year, after 24 years, he returned home for the first time and found his family.

Stories like this one not uncommon and my heart breaks every time I hear someone talk about their horrible childhood. The people here have seen and lived through some of the most atrocious things, and yet they are resilient. Somehow they have managed to survive, I don't know how, but they have.

A Few More Pictures

Some more pictures from out in the camp.

This guy has tuberculosis...Every time I leave their house I just pray that the purell hand sanitizer really is that good!

I have no idea who these kids are but I recognize them because they always follow us around. No matter what day it is or what time I go I can count on these kids to be there. You'd think I'd get old to them after a while, I mean, I'm out there all the time. I was hoping that they'd eventually get used to the white girl, but for some strange reason they are still fascinated.

This little girl in the white is my favorite. I don't know her name but she lives near to the place where we leave the car out there. She is always the first to say hello to me and shake my hand. This day she heard the car coming and raced out of her house so that she could wave to us, then she rushed up to greet us when we got out of the car. On another day she wasn't around or for some reason she somehow missed us when we arrived. When we were finished and got back to the car to go home she was sitting on the bumper just waiting for us. She shook my hand and greeted me, let go of my hand and then immediately shook my hand again and told me goodbye...I think it was one of the cutest things I've seen in a long time!

It's Winter Now

Yesterday I was out in the camp and everyone was decked out for winter...sweaters, toboggans, the whole get up. We were having a meeting and I asked if they wanted to meet inside or outside...they said definitely inside because of the 'cold wind'. I did notice that it was a little windy but definitely would not have called it 'cold'.

As I looked around I noticed that everyone was dressed in winter clothes and so I asked them if they were cold and they were like 'yes, the weather changed today. It turned cold.' I didn't really think it was cold, but then again sweat wasn't dripping down my leg like usual so I realized that it actually was cooler than normal...not cold but definitely not as hot.

After that every single local person I met, it didn't matter if I knew them or not, commented on how cold it was and how the weather had changed. Then last night my guard was bundled up and just couldn't believe that I was wearing a tank top in this cold weather.

So I guess it's cold now....definitely not as cold as I remember from last winter, but somehow colder. Woohoo!!!

The Gym

We have a gym here, surprise!! Actually the 'health' fad is slowly catching on...I can count about 8 different gyms in this city of 8 million people. When you think gym, don't think 24 hour fitness or anything...think 3 broken machines in a small, unairconditioned room.

Anyways, I joined one the other day (the best one, it has about 10 machines and maybe 3 are working). It's getting to be winter which means 100 degrees instead of 120 so I won't have to worry about heat exhaustion or anything like that...figured I might as well. Plus they have a track, the only track in this country. It's just rocks, not the special spongey black rocks like y'all have, just plain rocks but it works.

The gym works like this. 3 days a week the gym is open for men and the other 3 days for women and it's open from 3pm-7pm. Since men aren't allowed in on the women's days it means that we can actually be outside and not be the center of unwanted attention...and I actually roll up my t-shirt sleeves and show my shoulders...shocking!!!

Anyways, the point of all of this is to describe my doctor experience. To join the gym you have to have a 'physical'. When I went to her 'office' she recorded my height...apparently I grew a few inches in the last year. Not real sure how that happened since I'm fairly certain most people don't have a growth spurt in their early 20's.

Then she took my weight. I believe her exact words were 'oh, you're still small. You do not need to make exercise.' First off, I'm not that small. Second, if you work at the gym don't you think you should be encouraging people to go there and not trying to talk them out of it?!?!

After that she took my blood pressure. She gets out the thing, puts it around my arm, gets situated with everything, goes to pump it up and, surprise, there's not bubble thing. It's just not there. She looks at me and says 'you're blood pressure is probably fine since you're still small'. Another lady comes in and tells her where another cuff is and she gets that one out. This one has a bubble pump, however it does not have any velcro to hold it to my arm. Still she gets everything all situated and then holds it on my arm while she pumps it up. I just laughed when she wrote 110/70 on my paper and said 'perfect'. The cuff never even got tight on my arm but I have perfect blood pressure. Who knew???

The last thing she did was take my pulse. In the middle of counting her phone rang and she answered it. When she was finished with the call she wrote down a number and then said that I was perfectly healthy and approved to join the gym.

She was a doctor, an actual medical professional. Some people may wonder why we have to leave the country to have even very basic medical care...now y'all know.

Games

I visited some of my friends in the camp yesterday and there were some other women at her house. One of the new ladies (pictured above with 6 week old baby) husbands works as a night guard at a western embassy. She was telling us how excited she was about the Christmas party they would have.

Then she started telling us about this game that they play every year. All in Arabic, of course, so it was pretty entertaining when she tried to explain how they put a spoon in their mouth and then put a lime in it and run to see who can be first without dropping the lime.

I let her fnish the explanation and then told her that we have that same game in America but we use an egg instead of a lime. That just blew her mind. She couldn't fathom why anyone would be foolish enough to put something as valuable as an egg on their spoon and take the chance that they would drop it and not be able to eat it later.

You just never know when you'll be reminded of how much you take for granted and just how wasteful us Americans can be.

This kid is a University of Texas fan, although I doubt he even knows it!!!

Thanksgiving is Coming!!!

The holiday season is upon us and, in the Sandbox, we have to really make an effort to get into the holiday spirit. Since there are no decorations, no Christmas music playing in the stores and no cold weather it's a little bit more difficult than you'd imagine.

About three weeks ago some of my friends got together and discussed what we were going to have for Thanksgiving dinner. They settled on the idea that we would have pig. Apparently there are some people here (who will forever remain nameless) who have access to pigs. You have to buy the entire thing and I'm sure that some of their methods of import are 'questionable' at best, but do we really care? (for those of you who might not know, pork is banned from the sandbox)

After 2 weeks of planning dinner around the pig it has come to our attention that it will cost roughly $500 ($40 per person) to buy this thing. Needless to say we very quickly reassessed our gameplan and are now having chicken(s). Maybe we'll put some bacon with the chicken and pretend.

I haven't heard anything about our football plan. Since we technically have Thanksgiving 9 hours before you do we miss out on the Cowboys game. I realize that not everyone is a cowboys fan but most of us around here are southerners and, let's face it, have you ever heard of anyone who plans thanksgiving dinner around the lion's game??? The idea was that maybe we could somehow tape a game from the last few weeks and then we'll watch it on Thursday...or at least have it playing in the background. We'll see how that worked out.

Despite the crushed pig expectations I still have plenty to be thankful for...and it always puts things into perspective when your friends are refugees, live on less than $2 a day and are still thankful for what little they have. So Happy Thanksgiving!!

Cutie

Check out this little guy. Ran into him at an HIV/AIDS awareness training. Not real sure that he understood anything that was being discussed or that he should have been around for it but I guess his mom thought that no one is too young to learn about AIDS. Plus he was dressed to the nines!

Coke Bottles

Out here we have glass bottle cokes. We have plastic bottles that we call 'mobiles' (with a long I) but they cost 50 cents. The glass bottles are 25 cents and definitely the more common choice among the locals.

Since there's a little store just outside my door I have converted to drinking the glass bottles. Even though you have to return the bottles, they're still cheaper and the place is just right there so it's really not a hassle. And we buy 5 at a time because it's just easier that way

But today, well today there was a foreign body in my glass bottle coke. Good thing I poured it into a separate glass or else I wouldn't have found it until the end. At first I thought maybe it was a piece of ice, then I thought maybe it was a piece of glass. Then I realized that it was a piece of plastic wrapper, probably just trash that the last person shoved into the bottle before they returned it.

No big deal, right? It was definitely a relief to realize that I didn't have to drink it. I could just pour it out and take my chances on the next bottle and that's exactly what I did.

But then I got to thinking...I wonder what kind of 'cleansing' process they use on these reused glass bottles. I mean up to this point I was perfectly content to ignorantly believe that whatever high pressure process they use to seal the metal lid on top was sufficient enough to wipe out the germs of the person before me. Now I've moved on to thinking about backwash and leftover trash shoved down in there...I'm just not sure I want to go there.

So all that to say kudos to the countries who have moved past the glass bottles and on to plastic only. It might be a little more expensive but I bet it saves on passing along communicable diseases.

Coffee

One of my friends was making me coffee the other day and her little 2 year old girl was climbing all over her back. It made it impossible for her to use the mortar stick thing to grind the coffee beans, but in typical Arab way she wouldn't let me grind the beans for her and she wouldn't ask the Fatina to stop climbing, even though the little girl is blind and there was fire right next to her so it was actually kind of dangerous.

She also makes these oven things. It's always fun trying to figure out what things are in Arabic. I was sitting there and out of the blue she brings this thing over and sets it in front of me with a huge grin so I know it's something she's proud of, I just don't know what it is. So I start asking questions like 'Did you make that yourself?', 'What is it?', 'What do you use it for?' etc...I always feel stupid, like when a little kid brings you a picture they drew and they expect you to know exactly what it is when you have no clue.

So I know the word for oven in Arabic, but since this isn't the kind of regular oven you'd find in a kitchen it has a different word and I don't know that word, so it took a while for the idea to come across that this was what she uses to cook food on. Then she explained that she makes it by hand out of mud and donkey doodoo, then sells it in the market for $1. Yep, when we're talking poor people we're talking people who spend hours crafting an oven out of mud and then are really excited to sell it for $1.

Rickshaw

I generally use public transportation to make my way around town. If I'm not going too far from home I hop on one of these, a rickshaw. They have them in Asia and, random fact, the Sandbox is the only country in Africa to use rickshaws.

Anyways they're pretty much a deathtrap and if there's ever an accident involving speeds over 5 mph someone is going to get hurt. Couple that with the fact that it's mainly young guys (like ages 12-18) who drive these and they just drive like maniacs and often go the wrong way on busy roads and you have yourself a majorly unsafe and surprisingly popular mode of transportation.

What is fun is that they all come decorated in a different way. For instance this guy has very unique taste. I especially like the teletubbies and the big hummer sticker but my favorite part is the furry leapord attached to the top. I can only imagine that inside he has a big fuzzy teddy bear that is so big it barely leaves any room for the passenger. He probably has tacky gold curtain tassles hanging from the ceiling and, if we're lucky, some flashing lights. More than likely when he honks his horn it plays some annoying tune like 'It's a Small World After All' and there is a sound system like no other blaring out TuPac or some other grossly inappropriate rap song...come to think of it they're all pretty much decorated alike.

Random Places

Here are a few pics of the random restaurants and places that we have. The Wall Mart pic is accidentally at the bottom of the last post. Then here's the 'Dairy Queen'

Here's our 'lucky meal' with the wannabe McDonalds arches.
Our 'KFC'

Keep in mind that the places pictured above are just knock offs of the real places and come no where close to sufficiently substituting in their absence.

Rift Valley Fever

Who knew that in moving to the Sahara desert there would be so many diseases coming and going. Recently there's an outbreak of Rift Valley Fever. I've never heard of that before, but after a little research I decided that I don't really want to experience it either.

In a recent update from WHO they said:
There are no vaccines for humans who contract Rift Valley Fever. Health experts generally advise the public to only eat inspected meat (like we have that!!), avoid human-animal contact (even if I wasn't working on a goat project, that's almost impossible), bury or burn dead animals (notice they didn't mention eating them) and observe basic hygiene.

Alright, I can handle the basic hygiene. Other than that I'll just have to believe that I'll be divinely protected.

Here's another little worm that I probably don't have but I know people who do and I would rather not get. Guinea Worm. Apparently Jimmy Carter has a whole little organization dedicated to eradicating guinea worm. Here's a few facts on that.

Adult guinea worms emerge from the skin of infected persons annually. Persons with worms protruding through the skin may enter sources of drinking water. Persons become infected by drinking water containing the larvae. Once inside the body, the worm passes into the body cavity. During the next 10-14 months, the female Guinea worm grows to 2-3 feet long and as wide as a cooked spaghetti noodle, and migrates to the site where she will emerge, usually the lower limbs.

A blister develops on the skin at the site where the worm will emerge. This blister causes a very painful burning sensation and it will eventually (within 24-72 hours) rupture. For relief, persons will immerse the affected limb into water, or may just walk in to fetch water. When someone with a Guinea worm ulcer enters the water, the adult female releases a milky white liquid containing millions of immature larvae into the water, thus contaminating the water supply.

Once the worm emerges from the wound, it can only be pulled out a few centimeters each day and wrapped around a small stick. Sometimes the worm can be pulled out completely within a few days, but this process usually takes weeks or months. No medication is available to end or prevent infection.

I know, it's gross, but sometimes you just have to face the fact that life in Africa can be pretty gross. Now can you just imagine if I end up having this one (rest assured, I probably don't have it, but then again I won't know for a year). I would like to see the look on an American doctor's face when I showed up at their office with a worm hanging out of my leg wrapped around a small stick?!?!?

In other news...

Being on TV

So I'm not sure how many times I've been on TV since I arrived in the Sandbox...I know I've turned down at least a couple of opportunities, but last week I went to a volleyball game with my friend and there was no avoiding it.

What's fun is that I went with a new white girl friend who has been here for a month. She had a totally different experience than me and it's so funny to remember back to when things were new.

When we walked in we were ushered to the fancy chairs in the front row with some other people who looked important and like they actually belonged in the front row. I guess I just got used to the VIP seats b/c it didn't even phase me when we were seated in the front.

Then people started taking 'discreet' pictures of us except they weren't discreet. Guys breaking out their camera phones and doing a horrible job of pretending they were taking pictures of other things while they were actually taking pictures of us...again, it's just gotten to be normal and I try not to notice it, otherwise it would probably really bother me that I can't go anywhere without people taking my picture.

Then they gave us a little plate of candy and cookies and some water. At this point we had moved to sit in like the 3rd row but they still passed it up to us. They only gave it to the important people and us, no one else...I'm not really sure how they got the idea that we were somehow important but I'm not gonna complain. But here again, I've just gotten used to someone bringing me a bottle of water while I'm there and I always get snacks when there are important people around and they're serving snacks. I mean, someone doesn't just go out and buy it for me, but if it's being passed out I am always included in the distribution.

Then there were the TV cameras. I've been at games being taped before and here's how it works. You know how on NBA games if there is a celebrity there the camera shots seem to include them more often than seems necessary? That would be my life. So there were 3 different cameras around the gym and I'm pretty sure that there was always at least one on us.

The game came on TV yesterday but it was on a channel that we don't get...all my friends have satellite but the channel is just on the regular TV so I didn't get to watch it. Plus why would I need to watch? I mean, I know what I looked like (pretty bad, it had been a long, hot day) and I know who won the game so why waste my time?

Cones

Yesterday I saw orange cones...there is a ditch down the side of the road that stretches for about 5 miles and for 50 yards of that there were some cones. It was so strange. They weren't even in a practical place or serving a practical purpose, but there were cones. Then, when I had just come to terms with the cones in front of the ditch we came up on even more in the middle of the road. Not only were there cones but there was a sign. One of those with one lane straight and one lane zig zagged like they needed to go around something. The sign was upside down but it was a sign and it was in front of a hole...a really small hole compared to the one that we had just almost gotten stuck in about 100 yards before, but there was a cone and some signage. What is this crazy world coming to?!?!?!

Clothes Market

I just got back from Nairobi and I've decided that my favorite market in the world is in Nairobi. (my favorite city for shopping in general is Cairo, but for the market category I've got to go with Nairboi) It's this used clothes market and I love it. You can find anything you want for cheap!

I guess I've been talking up this market a little much b/c my friends here in the Sandbox are trying to figure out how they can manage to stretch a 2 hour layover to get to the market and back when the market is about an hour from the airport if there's no traffic. What I guess I didn't tell them is that it's pretty much a huge garage sale. Lots of tables and people in the this big field, no order to anything, just a big giant mess where you dig through searching for good finds.

However this garage sale is a little different than the American ones. This one consists of all the brand new clothes that companies like GAP, Old Navy and H&M, donate to all the 'poor people in Africa' for a tax writeoff...Well, either the all poor people decided that they didn't need new clothes or somehow this process has been grossly mismanaged because it all ends up for sale at the Toy Market...sort of like the mosquito nets and food supplies that the UN gives out in war zones...hmm.

Sidenote, I love going up to sellers in the market in the sandbox and joking that they give me, for free, the food supplies that WFP donates to the refugees here for free. I tell them that my country gave the money to buy that food in the first place, I point out where it says 'not for resale' and really make 'em feel bad. Then when they are actually going to give it to me, I tell them I don't want it and they should give it to someone poor, then walk away...I do all of this jokingly but they believe it. I mean, I gotta practice my Arabic somehow!!!

But I was pleasantly surprised by the market last week. They have really stepped it up a little. Each of the little tables has somehow constructed a tarp above it to keep the clothes dry when it rains AND they have managed to put rocks in between the tables so you don't have to trek through the mud, now you just have to twist your ankles a million times b/c the rocks are incredibly uneven.

I actually bought pretty much an entire new wardrobe there last week. Brand new Gap pants for $4, some Old Navy jeans for $7, a lot of cute shirts for no more than $3 each, it was great. I love shopping when things are so cheap that I can just buy everything that I see that I want and not have to worry about how much it will be, etc.

Then it's Africa, so every price is negotiable. The sellers would start out at $10 for the pants and I would say 'you give me this for free'. They would go down a little and I'd go up a little, they'd go down and I'd go back to 'you give me for free' until we met somewhere around $4. At one point I sat on top of this guys jeans table on top of his huges tack of jeans for about 30 minutes just chatting and negotiating off and on until we agreed. At one point I actually told him 'look, you are a rich man. You have too many pants, maybe 500. Every morning you come here and you take your pick. Me, I am poor. I have only 2 jeans. You give me for a good price and I will tell my friends about you.'

So I'm living up to my word...not only did I bring back some of my friends later in the week but now all of y'all know about the guy with all the jeans.

Did You Know?

Did you know that if you rub ostrich oil on one leg and not the other your one leg will grow really long and the other will stay the same?

Today some people told me that in all seriousness. I found out that they were serious when I busted out laughing and they didn't really know why I was laughing, nor were they laughing with me. To gracefully recover I told them that I wanted it on both of my legs, otherwise I would just walk in circles all day and never go anywhere. Then they started laughing...then they repeated what I said for the rest of the day to anyone who came over to visit with us and they all laughed too. Like I've said, I just stick around to keep people entertained!

Eed Sweets

This last Eed was the sugar eed and I definitely ate way too much sugar! When you visit people you may only be there a few minutes but in those few minutes you'll have a glass of coke, a few pieces of candy and a few cookies. I always slip the candy in my purse and give it to beggar kids later, but that's just me.

So the local people go visit everyone that they know during the Eed just to say 'Happy Eed' and due their duty. One of my friends went to 23 houses in one day...I can't even imagine. But he also said that it's only twice a year that he has to see his extended family so he doesn't mind...sort of sounds like how some Americans talk about Thanksgiving and Christmas, huh?

The point of this whole thing though. The well-off people buy their cookies and sweets. The poor people make their own and I got to experience some of my goat women (sounds a little strange) making their own. There were 5 women who got together at one lady's house, mixed up their stuff and then laid them out on these huge trays that are about 5 feet across.

The people out there don't have their own ovens. They do all their cooking over these little tin boxes with charcoal in them. I'll get a picture of those later, but there are shops that have ovens and they charge people to cook their stuff for them. So in this picture you can see the women with the trays of the sweets on their heads taking them to the oven shop, then their kids are carrying the empty trays where they'll put the finished sweets. It's a little hard to see...it's also a little hard to take pictures of things that you're technically not supposed to be taking pictures of...sorry!
Also during the Eed all the well-off people buy all new things. New furniture, new clothes, new dishes, new everything. I have friends who completely repaint and remodel their house once a year for the Eed. Then everything is decorated with lights and tinsel, etc. Poorer people can't really afford to be decorating and I'm not real sure how you would remodel a mud house, but this is a picture of a popular decoration with our goat families. This is a plastic yogurt cup cut in the shape of a star and then stuck on the wall. They were all over the place! The women said that their kids were really excited about the Eed and wanted to put up some decorations, so they made these...kind of reminds me of little kids getting excited for Christmas and cutting out paper snowflakes or making paper chains. It's pretty cute!

So I guess this year I somehow saw all the similarities on how we celebrate holidays in America and in the Sandbox. See all your family, eat too much, say Happy Eed (Merry Christmas) to everyone you see, make all kinds of cookies and sweets before the big day, , and then the kids get all excited and spend their days off of school making their own decorations and sticking them to the walls...if only they had turkey...

My New Friend

Was That...Surely Not!

Well, bad news. A goat died. Even worse news...I ate it.

Thursday morning I got a phone call that went like this:
**are you coming today?
**yes, we'll come after one hour (meaning we won't be there in the next hour but we are coming today...very precise, huh?)
**Good. There is a problem with a goat'
**What is the problem?
**Amy called me last night. She said that the goat was very tired and restless and that it was very sick
**Well, we'll be there and we can look at it.
**You can't look at it. It died
**It died?
**Yes, I said there was a problem
**Oh, it died. Well, we'll go talk to Amy when we get there.
**Ok, see ya later.

I hope y'all get as much entertainment out of these conversations as I do. Anyways, so we get out there and they are telling us what was going on and that she called over her neighbor Hailey to see what she thought. She and Hailey stood there and looked at it but neither knew what to do...this just brings back many memories of college or of the Sandbox where something is wrong and I call another girlfriend over and neither of us has any clue what to do so we just stand there with our hands on our hips and watch as water is shooting all over the kitchen or something like that.

Anyways, eventually they said the goat got bad enough that it was going to die so they killed it. That's typical because they won't eat an already dead animal because they're scared of disease and some other religious reasons, but it can be seconds from death and they can slit it's throat and that's somehow okay. Anyways, after they killed it they handed out goat meat to all the neighbors and everyone got to have dinner last night.

So we're standing there talking about all this and they say, with pride, that the goat died from eating a plastic bag. They found it in his stomach so they know. I didn't argue with them, although when a goat eats a plastic bag they actually die like 6 months later of starvation, not the next week of seizures, but I didn't want to argue and I wasn't sure how to tell them that in Arabic either, so I let it go.

All this time, I've been preparing myself for something. See around here any time you go to someone's house they are obligated to give you some water and some sort of drink, normally a coke or some juice. I was really worried that, now that we gave all these people these goats, they would be giving us goat milk. I had already asked my language tutor what to say about why I can't drink goat milk...it actually does make my stomach hurt so that's not a lie, but I know that they don't boil the milk and I just don't want to risk getting some weird disease b/c I was polite and drank what they offered me. However, I was NOT prepared to be eating the goat...can't believe I didn't think of that.

After we discussed how the goat died and I knew it was because of something other than a plastic bag, we sit down to breakfast...meat, meat and more meat with some bread. Hmmm. Wonder where all that meat came from. We can't get out of this, there is just no way, so we just have to go for it. I take a bite and it tastes like a normal part of goat so I'm thinking PTL, it's normal. My friend takes a bite from the same bowl and says 'how's that liver?'. I was like 'it's not liver' and he says 'yes it is, I know liver.' And I say 'well I know liver too and I did not have liver.' So then we try to figure out what part of the goat you would cook with the liver. We could only come up with heart. Sick me out. So we're smiling and trying to just keep this stuff down...using the whole 'eat slowly and make it look like you always have a mouthful so you might be able to fake 'em out and make them think you're eating a lot.

We finish breakfast, all the while praying that we did not just get mad goat disease, and then sit around and drink some coffee. The ladies sons and husband come home for breakfast and she fixes their tray from the same pot she pulled ours out of...only they got the brain, one big whole entire brain. No wonder I couldn't pin down what part exactly I was eating...it was cooked in brain juice and that really changes the flavor. You can't imagine my relief when I realized that we did not have to eat the brain, then my horror when I realized that everything I had just eaten was cooked in brain.

Why can't I just live somewhere normal? I mean, most days I love it here, I really do. But then there's these 'brain days' and I just wish more than anything that I was somewhere normal where they eat normal, plain things and don't make you eat diseased goat meat cooked in brain...is that too much to ask?!?!?

I had a really cute picture of me with this tiny little baby goat but, of course, our amazing Internet here just isn't quite up to par today. Oh well, later.

Weddings

I went to a wedding last week. Even though I've been to quite a few weddings in my time here I have actually never been to one where I knew the bride or groom or even someone in their family until this one. The first wedding I went to some local friends just called and asked me to go with them. When I told them I couldn't go because I wasn't invited and didn't know the people getting married they said 'we don't either. Another friend invited us.' I asked around and people told me that going to weddings uninvited was totally normal so I went. It was fine, although after a while I realized that I actually find weddings here extremely annoying and have since decided I will only go if I know the bride. Anyways.
I talked some of my foreigner friends into coming with me, just because I hate being the only white girl there and the center of attention. Another reason why I don't like going to weddings of people I don't know...the white girl is always the center of attention and I just think that the bride should get to have one day where everyone is looking at her. Now if she invites me to come then she brough it on herself.

We got there and were immediately surrounded by people wanting to talk to the foreigners. After about 30 minutes that got old, so we walked around for a while then sat again where we were again immediately surrounded. At this point, one lady said that there was something about my eyes that made me look black. I'm fairly certain I understood what she was saying since I kept saying that my eyes were blue and she kept saying, 'yes, they're blue but they make your skin look black like an african'. I don't understand why I was 'black' and my friends were still white. Here's a picture of the 3 of us. If you somehow see what this lady was talking about please let me know because I sure can't figure it out!
After about 2 hours of sitting there talking with people, which can get annoying after a while when you don't know them and all they want to do is know where you are from, what you think of their country, and how American weddings are different, the bride and groom finally showed up. Then there was really loud music and dancing. Here's me and my volleyball friend dancing.
Our hands aren't just looking funny. Dancing here involves very little movement but a lot of snapping your fingers and moving your hand back and forth and not surprisingly, I'm still not very good at it. Anyways. The music has to be turned off at 11pm (govt rule) and since the bride didn't show up until 10:15, there was about 45 minutes of dancing. The music was so loud that once 11 rolled around no one could hear anything and so everyone was yelling at each other to talk...always fun to watch.

We left about 11:30, but my friend insisted that they were just getting started and they were going to have some sort of ceremony where they bride and groom changed clothes and then sat on a bed next to each other while they were doused in different types of perfumes. While that sounded really interesting, we're kind of supposed to be home around 11pm or somewhere close to that and we figured that 2 am didn't qualify as 'somewhere close'.

So there's my wedding experience from this week. I could go into tons of details on how weddings here are completely different from American weddings, but I explained this in Arabic about 25 times during the hours that we were just sitting there waiting for the bride to come and I just don't know that I want to explain it ever again.

More Goats

I've been spending a lot of time out with the goat families. One of the goats had twins last week. They're pretty much the cutest goats I've ever seen. Here's me and my friend petting them.

I visited the family that I 're-gifted' my goat to. The wife is a teacher and they have 9 children. I guess 9 kids sounds like a lot at first...until you hear that they actually want 12...then it doesn't seem like so many. When I go to their house I don't even know which kids belong to them and which kids are from the neighbors. I just know that their house is always full of kids!

I asked her if they had named the goat and she just looked at me like I was crazy. I told her that, if the goat was going to be Fatima's friend (her 4 month old baby girl), that it had to have a name...all her other kid's friends had names. She laughed but I think it was just because she thinks the white girl is crazy, not because she thought it was funny.

I asked if her children liked the goat and she said that they go to the pen and look at it every 5 minutes and that, if she can't find one of her kids, more than likely the it's underneath a bed somewhere playing with the baby goat.

This is really my favorite part of being out there, visiting with the families, watching their kids play, learning about their lives, asking them strange questions like if their goats have names...This is what living in the Sandbox is all about!

Year of the Locust

First off, apparently only people from TX use the word 'grasshopper'. I was so confused when people started talking about this locust plague because I couldn't find any locusts...you know those ugly green things that attach themselves to trees and are really loud and then leave those crunchy brown shells behind that you play with in the yard as a kid. All I saw were grasshoppers everywhere and it took me a surprisingly long time to figure out that those were the locusts they were talking about...I think the heat is getting to my brain! Anyways, everywhere else in the world what I know of as grasshoppers are called locusts and come to think of it, I don't actually know what name they have for our TX locusts. For me it's more the year of the grasshopper, but that's neither here nor there.

There are 'locusts' everywhere. Like when I go outside I have them hitting me in the face. The other day there were 4 in the car which makes it a little difficult to drive. When I got to my friends houses they help me pick them off the back of my shirt. That's fine, they're huge and they kind of hurt when they hit you in the face, but if they stay outside then that's fine with me...except for that they don't stay outside. I don't really know how but it has become the year of the grasshopper in my apartment.

We also have a surprisingly large number of frogs...I mean, it's the desert, frogs? When it was raining there were thousands. You actually couldn't take a step without stepping on several at a time. They were really tiny and swimming around in all the puddles. That was 2 months ago. Now they've grown into full sized toads and, especially at night, you just never know when one is going to jump on your foot. The frogs aren't inside the house...except for that one time...so they're not really as annoying as the grasshoppers but they're still everywhere! My aunt would absolutely die, she hates hates frogs.

I probably shouldn't be complaining. People here sometimes eat 'locusts' and frogs so there are probably a lot of little kids who would otherwise be hungry but now have something to eat. I just really wish I could watch a movie or cook dinner without having one crawl up my leg.

Holidays Are Here!!

Today marks the beginning of the Eed. The 3 day or so holiday to mark the end of ramadan (PTL it's over!!!). It's another one of those 'we don't know until the night before if tomorrow is a holiday or not' kind of things. I was out about 8pm and people still didn't know so when I went to bed I hadn't heard if today was the holiday or not. At 6 am this morning, I figured out that it was.

How, you might ask, did I know? Well, the mosques, every single mosque around, went off for an hour straight (by went off, I mean some guy came over the loudspeaker and yelled all sorts of things). Then there were the constant firecrackers from the neighborhood kids and the loud cheering from everyone around. I don't know if any of y'all have ever heard the high pitched, African 'ulululululul' sound but all the women were doing it. While I am very excited that ramadan is over, I was not excited between 6 and 7 this morning as I laid in bed, wondering if the celebration would ever end.

It finally did, probably because they all had to go make breakfast now that they can eat during the daylight. Firecrackers have been going off all day and there is nobody out, including me. I stayed at home and did absolutely nothing today...what better way to celebrate a holiday that I would rather not observe!!

No one is really sure when the Eed will be over. Around here holidays tend to drag on. Remember last January when the entire month was just one big holiday?!? Since it started today and is technically 3 days long Sunday should be the last day. I've heard from local friends that things might pick back up Monday, maybe Tuesday but definitely by Wednesday...insha'allah. Not a bad deal for people who are getting out of work...not so great for people who are planning to leave the country in 2 weeks and still don't have a visa in spite of 2 months of waiting for one.

Bonus Week

This goes with the 'unmarked road construction' referenced in the last post. This one just popped up today although, to be fair, some people might would call this 'marked'. I wouldn't, but some might.
***

This week is bonus week....in life. That's right, just like the bonus round in a game show or on a video game. The last week of Ramadan is bonus week and people get extra points for doing all of the things that they're supposed to be doing all year but don't. So this week everyone gives alms to the poor, everyone says their prayers 5 times a day, etc. and everyone makes a big show out of it.

***

One thing I've found interesting is how many beggars are out. Sorry if I talk about beggars like they're commonplace but here, well, they are commonplace and I am bombarded by people constantly asking for money and it gets old. Anyways, there are all kinds of people out. They're on the street corners, they knock at your front door and then if you open it they stand in the way and you can't close the door until some stranger with a kind heart sees you and comes over to pull them away, they stand in between you and your car and won't let you get in until you threaten to go to the police station.

***

But after a while you kind of get to know them, at least the regulars. Not really know them, but I recognize the people who sit in certain intersections all year long and I'll give the kids a piece of candy every now and then. But this week the 'professionals' are out, the ones who are just out to take advantage of bonus week. They come out of the woodwork, it's crazy.

***

The good thing, however, is that for this week and this week only the beggars might just leave me alone. They know that they'll get more money out of the local than the foreigner so they opt to ignore me and ask the locals. If, by chance, one of them happens to forget that it's bonus week, I kindly remind them that it's the last week of ramadan and I am not a Muslim. If they still won't leave me alone I might say something like 'you know, I heard that it's Ramadan and that muslims are supposed to be giving money. There is one right there (I point to the guy in the car next to me) and I bet, if you ask nicely, he'll give you more money than I will b/c all I have is some crackers and you can't eat for another 6 hours'. They usually leave me alone after that.

***

Some would argue that we're supposed to love people and take care of the poor and the widows and orphans and I agree and I do that as often as I tactfully can. That's pretty much what my job at the NGO is all about. But I just can't start handing out money in the street here or I'll be mobbed by people looking for a free handout. I'm mobbed when I give just one kid a piece of candy!

***

Please don't judge me or think that I'm heartless. I know this sounds harsh, but I would guess that the majority of people have never had someone who looks surprisingly healthy walk beside you down the street for a good 10 minutes repeating the word 'money, money, money, money, money' like an auctioneer.

Somewhere to Sit

I am dog sitting and, of course, the dog is now broken and we had to take it to the vet. Yesterday they gave her a shot and said to come back tomorrow. We went back today and they gave her another shot and told us that she would need and X-ray for her leg. They called someone and it was obvious that they could not get a hold of whoever it was. They conferred on who had what number for this person, called again and then told us to 'have a seat'. Well, we've been here long enough to know to NEVER sit down when you're told to have a seat so I asked them what the plan was. They said that they couldn't find the X-ray technician but that it was no problem, we could wait in those chairs right over there. When I asked them how long it would be they said 'maybe after tomorrow, maybe after the A9ed'. Well, the A9ed is this weekend and won't be over until Sunday or maybe Monday (another one of those 'you never know when it will be' holidays). We told them we would come back and politely took our leave. What I should have said is 'you are kidding. I have been searching for somewhere to sit for the next week and you're saying that I can sit here?!? What a coincidence! This is just great, thank you!!'

If we hadn't asked we would have been sitting there all day until they closed and, even then, they probably wouldn't have told us that it wasn't going to happen today. This is one of the most ridiculous things about this culture that I will NEVER accept. If they know it is something you probably don't want to hear they just don't tell you. Instead they talk around the subject or they'll just flat out lie to you. I'm surprised that they even told us it would take a while when we asked. Normally they would say 'oh, after one hour. It is no problem.'

Kind of like the cooler repair man. He came last Monday and said he would be back early Tuesday. He never came back, ever. Finally we called his boss on Saturday morning and he assured us that he would come 'after one hour'. Stupid us, we waited around. He showed up today while we were at the vet. The guard let him in but he didn't fix a thing. Wonderful.

Traffic

This is a picture of one of the main intersections on one of the busiest roads in the capitol city in the Sandbox. Don't be misled...the majority of the streets here are NOT paved, most of the billboards we have (which is not many) just happen to be on this street and the stoplight you see is one of 7 that I can think of. So I guess the picture isn't very representative of this place, but the guy pushing the cart is. He's just strolling through one of the busiest intersections in town like it's nothing and the weirdest part is that it is so normal for donkey carts, push carts, really any kind of slow moving vehicle, to just be in the middle of the busiest roads like they belong there.

Throw in people walking, big rocks in random places, holes big enough for your entire car to fall into, assorted unmanned animals, unmarked road construction, broken down cars, piles of bricks, forklifts (saw one today, not a thing around that would need a forklift but it was right there in the middle of everything) and buses that do whatever they want no matter who is in their way and it definitely makes for an interesting ride. THEN factor in that it's Ramadan and everyone is hungry and thristy and angry and in a rush to get anywhere and everywhere no matter what time of day it is...things can get prettyy bad. I spent quite a bit of time on the road today and, honestly, I'm a little surprised to have made it to 8pm.

Happy Birthday!

My birthday was last week but the Internet has been a little weird and I haven't been able to post. I was planning to post a picture but it won't let me do that either...sorry!

Thank you so much to all of you who sent pictures and notes in the scrapbook. It is such a special gift and really means so much to me. Each time I look through it I am so encouraged by all of you who are thinking of me and what I'm doing here.

My New Best Friend

Last week I got a call from a friend. It went something like this:

**'I quit my job at XYZ. Can you call the ambassador and meet with him tomorrow? I want to work at the US embassy and I need to see if he has any positions for me.' (friend)
**'Can you give me directions to the embassy?' (me)
**'Why?' (friend)
**'Well, I don't know where it is. I also don't know the ambassador. I just don't think that, even if I can find the embassy, he will meet with me to see if you can have a job. I also am pretty sure that we don't even have an ambassador or any American staff at the embassy.' (me)
**'oh...well I don't know where it is.' (friend)
**'Then I'm not really sure how I can help you. Sorry.' (me)

I guess since I'm one of the 'lucky ones' in this whole nationality lottery that means that I know anyone and everyone from the US...and I know them well enough to just call them up and get a job for a local friend that I actually really don't know all that well and I don't know how he got my phone number.

This is actually a common thing. People asking me to go talk to the UN to find them a job or to get them refugee status because they want to go to America, even if they're not a refugee. I don't work at the UN and I don't know anyone who does, but because I'm white I must have connections for this sort of thing, right?

What I really like is when people start asking me about foreign policy and why I don't make sure it is changed. They ask things like 'can you please tell George Bush that we really don't think we need sanctions?' or 'can you tell George Bush that he should give people from the Sandbox visas to come to America?' My answer is usually 'next time George calls and asks me what I think I will be sure and tell him. And next time Omar calls to ask you what you think can you please tell him that I want this street to become paved?' They don't usually laugh. I don't think they quite understand the correlation between the fact that I'm asking them to do the exact same thing they just asked me to do and it's really that ridiculous.

It's also fun when people hear that I'm from TX. Always, without a doubt, the very next thing out of their mouths is 'oh yes, George Bush is from TX. You know him? You are neighbors?' I always want to say 'yes, he is my best friend. How did you know?!?'

However, in my birthday scrapbook, the one with pictures of my friends and family from home, there just so happens to be a picture of a friend that also has Laura Bush in it. I will have to be really careful not to let my national friends see. Otherwise they will think that I've been lying to them this entire time and I'm not really sure I could convince them otherwise!!!

The Last Two

Today we handed out the last 2 goats. It took us over 2 months to find 20 healthy goats in a place where there are tons of goats just roaming the street...we had a little bit higher standard than just any roaming goat, but still, it took a long time.

When we paid for the last two the farm owner said 'I have a gift for you' and he went to his car. We didn't really know what to expect but thought that, since he's recently become fairly rich off of the goats we bought from him, it might be something good. Then he brought out a watermelon. Apparently someone had given it to him and he didn't want it so he was re-gifting it to us...only he wasn't ashamed of the fact that it was a re-gift and he totally told us that....thanks buddy!

I also gave 'my' goat to my friend out there. That farm owner was really insistent on giving me this baby goat and I really have no desire to actually keep and be responsible for a goat no matter how cute it is, so I re-gifted it. My friend has a 3 month old baby named Fatima. I asked her if Fatima wanted a friend and she laughed like I was joking but said sure. I told her I was serious several times, although I don't think she actually believed me until I showed up at her front door with it this afternoon. Now baby Fatima has a new friend!