Lesson's of the Day

Dateline Khartoum – Tuesday May 13, 2008

This was a really weird day.

I learned that my neighbor/cook's name is not Marta but Gratziela. This is not a life's lesson, merely an editorial correction.

However, I learned that she has no running water next door. Wether that is by choice, since they have a sattelite dish, or that of the two, the dish is cheaper, I do not know.

I determined that I did not care, and filled her huge vats with water.

My mind drifts to a wedding in Caanan and turning it into wine. That would have been really nice.

I woke with some anxiety, but could not determine the cause. In this weather, it makes no difference if you are anxious or not, you must eat. The heat will sap your strength if you do not.

A new AC man arrived, a friend of my neighbor's that used to live in this neighborhood. Rascal, it appears, has several personalities.

One is nice puppy.

The other is Atila the Hun.

He charged this man, thnkfully, before he came through the gate. Rascal was confined to indoors.
He adjusted the belt and voila, I know have air. (Though this AM, it is back to squealing.)

Several friends suggested options of coping without AC, specifiallly sleeping without AC: large floor fans, lots of ceiling fans, water spritzing and rum and cola. I thank you for caring for me.

Ok, here is the thing. The house is already wired, and contains one plug for each room. Therefore, plug already used for one fan. Additional not opptional. I like the idea of open doors, but I hate flys landing all over me when I am trying to work or sleep.

An oscillating fan would be nice, as well as a floor fan, but Target or Kmart are not just around the corner.

Water sprtizing would be great, but it would dry in mid air.

Rum and coke. Ah, not my drink, but not anyones drink in Khartourm. The is sharia law and no alcohol is anywhere.

Now that the AC was fixed, I could go into work.

Nope. They had decided that it was still a little iffy, not really, and tomorrow/today would be fine.

The garbagemen finally showed up.

Here, all trash is taken to a certain place in front of each house. So, all the trash that Joanna did not have picked up, plus mine, had to be hauled outside. Yuck.

And, of course, Rascal charged and growled and barked at them as well.

That done, I hosed down the front courtyard. I wanted to watch the soccer game sitting down rather than stare over the fence like Elroy.

Brought a chair to the front, but in doing so started to slip on the nud and I felt my hamstring snap. Ouch. Spent some time trying to stretch it out weating a long skirt. Not an easily accomplished task mnd you.

Game time: Sit in the shade watching the game. My grandfather would have been drinking Knickerbocker beer and watching the game. Water tastes better.

Anna, little girl down the street, came by. I put Rascal in the other courtyard and she came inside. What a delight, but no substitution for Kathryn. But, so much like Kathryn.

Playing dressup in my sun visor and sunglasses. Sassaying around. Showing Sami next door.

Rubbing my arm trying to see if the white comes off.

Drinks water. Then drinks and spits and laughs. Sits in my lap, whispers in my ear, in arabic of course.

Climbs the fence, yells at the team.

Then nightmare.

Rascal gets out, charges me and Anna. Lots of screaming and me holding Anna high in the air. Trying to get Rascal to stop, holding Anna higher. She is lifted over the fence by two tall young men. Rascal calms down as I yell. Into the other courtyard.

Through one of the young men, wearing a Yankee baseball cap, I learn that she is not bitten, but that she was frightened and her heart is beating very fast. Likewise.

She goes home. Comments made between the three of us about Rascal's agressiveness.

I go back inside and cry.

This neighborhood is my world now. How to deal with this? What are they thinking as they watched this? What about Anna's parents?

After several phone calls to Joanna's friends here in Khartoum, I learn that Rascal was a wild puppy when Joanna rescued him. Something about pack living is still ingrained in him. The weak are to be attacked. Hold your turf.

I call Sami. He meets me at the front, I tell him the story, and ask if I should go see the parents.
Yes. We will go right away. First, get jacket to cover shoulders.

Sami, in his role as translator, tells them why I am there. They invite us in. We sit, father brings two waters and two little candies. Anna arrives, smiling. While Sami is telling the story, very animatedly, Anna gets a little brown stool for my water.

Everything ends well. They invite me back for longer conversations about why I am here, etc.

This ought to be very interesting.

I am going to have to pay Sami to interpret. Or the conversation is going to take a very long time.

Two months maybe.