This place has better couches than my house, but the problem are the insects that sneak in through the windows all the time. But now that I’ve spent three days here, I don’t jump at the sight of an insect. To the one I brutally killed, I apologise. To the one that was inside my mosquito net the entire night and still got out alive because Mark was around, you lucky bastard. I hate you.
To update you guys on what’s up, there’s a lot going on. I might repeat things from my previous blog but we’ll have to live with that because I do not have the patience to triple check things. I live in this beautiful house called Sunbird, and it is tucked in between some bush and houses. Our neighbour is the “High Five House”, considering how the kids there love to give high fives. The kids on the street are the ones who make my heart flutter every single day. At our very sight, they come running up to us yelling ‘mzungu’ and one wave makes them smile broad. Some even followed us with their tyres that they used for play, and others waved bye until they couldn’t see us anymore. Kim Kardashian, I’m basically living your life. In retrospect though, I feel guilty when we’re given so much attention for being outsiders because we’re part of the reason they haven’t been able to develop enough yet. The privileged mzungus.
My placement is at Linda Community Farm, which houses vulnerable people. A lot of them are blind and are unable to mingle in the society without assistance. Without much support, they grow their crops and sustain themselves. What’s tragic is that they have a school that consists of three rooms, which also happens to be a day care centre for toddlers. There’s kids raging from 2 to 14 in the same classroom, and it is chaotic. To give credit where it’s due, most of them are very eager to learn. I also have a new nickname of “Mutinta” which means “a girl born in the family of men” in Nyanja, and it is eerily apt considering how all my parental cousins are male.
It’s generally a safe place, if you follow the general rules like only using cabs with a purple ribbon. So fancy, wow. But there was this one night when six of us girls were crammed into the seats, and the driver took a detour despite our protests. I kid you not, we were all ready to fight or flight. A friend had a broken wiper in her hand and I was calculating the prospect of running against fighting. Thankfully, nothing went wrong.
Mostly we spend our days around town, and go to Kubu’s for WiFi. Now that I have data, it might change. Oh, fun fact. Our Romanian friend, who we bully a lot, mentioned that Botswana’s currency is pula (or something like that) which happens to be a bad word in Romanian. Since we didn’t know what it meant, and it sounded as cute as a word could be, we started singing “shake that pula” out on the road. After a lot of trouble and begging though, we found out what it meant and also added on to it because why not. And so, While in Zambia, I found my favourite phrase “Sugi Pula” (pronounced suj poola) which means “suck my dick”. I’m going to be saying it a lot, especially considering that I don’t have a dick.
Oh, today we got lost in bush that came to my waist, and I was certain a green mamba was going to kill me. I regretted not activated my sim card early enough, and not knowing emergency contact numbers. But after two hours of walking, and a kind little boy walking with us, we reached our placement. What happened there was being bombarded with children and then doing some multiplication in a rather strange way. It made sense, but I had never come across this method.
I had watermelon for lunch, and it made me instantly happy. I got to post on instagram and now I will be active on all social networks, after a long time. I missed the internet, I missed you guys. There have been moments when I questioned my decision to come to Africa, but something tells me it is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Soon, I will be leaving for soccer club, and a kid named Sam promised to teach me some. Good luck to him. And then, we go for pizza.