For the follow up on the stories to which I alluded yesterday. Actually, maybe you can wait since I couldn’t help but notice almost no one said they “liked” what I wrote. Not that I’m just sitting here keeping track.
Let’s get this one out of the way first, because I am rather opposed to bathroom stories and don’t find potty humor humorous. So my toilet, for which I am grateful, is a bit tricky as far as flushing goes. There is a long metal handle that must be pumped some unpredictable number of times, between 5 and 15, in order to get the appropriate amount of water coming from the appropriate directions to send the contents where they need to be sent. And since there is no way to know how many pumps are going to be required at a particular time, you have to watch the water flow and direction. Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was my location and occupation on Monday morning, when I was stunned to see that, just as the velocity had reached the ideal level, something was moving wildly in the bowl. Tending toward mild hypochondria as I do, my immediate thought was, “something is very very wrong with me.” But in a nanosecond I realized it was, you guessed it, a gecko. Wrong place, most wrong as possible time.
That could be him/her. I believe that he/she has had a swim to a nicer home. I have seen several types and sizes in my house, but they don’t bother me for some reason. Plus I’m pretty sure they eat things I really wouldn’t like.
Saturday, we were off to distributions but the vehicle was so loaded by the time we picked up everything that the tires started to go flat and it was suggested that I return home. Not sure it’s been suggested that I flatten tires before, but it worked out ok because I bought 30 eggs, which I believe is the metric equivalent to a dozen. (I am actually learning the metric system here now, so sophisticated am I, although I guess I should probably know it already since I’ve been teaching it for a few years. Remember when they told us in 3rd grade, and 4th and so on that we would never be scientists or doctors if we didn’t learn it? Although for me I guess they were right) Anyway, I got the 30 eggs home safely, boiled them and made deviled eggs, my fine dining specialty, as some of you know. Our eggs at home are different than the ones here- the yolks of these are only a tad darker than the whites, a very pretty pale yellow. The mayo was grey but tasted the same, I added some spices and they were pretty good. I didn’t call them deviled eggs because that didn’t seem good plus I don’t know how to say deviled in Swahili. But they were a hit, I am happy to report, with the Guards. Although, who knows, maybe they have them here all the time and I just think I’m contributing to another culture. I didn’t ask.
I had a lovely dinner with Sandy and Martin McCann and a few of their friends at Msalato Theological School, about 12 kilometers (see) outside of Dodoma. The McCanns lived in Louisa County, Virginia, many years ago, and left Georgia ten years ago to come to Dodoma. Sandy is a Priest and a Professor at Msalato. Martin is the only pathologist in Central Tanzania and happens to work in the same building as I. There is always quite a queue outside his office and his expertise is very much appreciated. They are both wonderful. More on Msalato later.
The Swahili quiz for today: Unajaribu. Eric won yesterday and now has one point. Everyone else has zero, but keep trying!