This and that...

I’m back in South Africa after a fantastic two weeks in Uganda visiting my friends Ruco and Kristi. I’m not too handy with the picture taking, so I’m afraid I don’t have much evidence of my trip. You’ll just have to believe me when I tell you that I saw a leopard on the side of the road and that eastern Uganda was dramatically beautiful. I was worried that I would get behind with work while I was in Uganda, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. I get a lot done when I’m not constantly making up excuses to go and visit Tendai.

I think that I will head back to Mozambique tomorrow. Today is being spent taking advantage of the speedy internet connection here in SA (my computer is sadly in need of updating and my iTunes begging for some refreshment), grocery shopping, and buying a few warmer pieces of clothing for the winter. Plaid is all the rage here in South Africa. Plaid was all the rage when I was in junior high. For everything there is a season, I suppose. I also bought a new suitcase. If you have read this blog for a while you may remember that my former suitcase died a quick and unanticipated death on my trip over to Moz and 50% of my belongings made the trip in a giant plastic bag provided by the airline. The baggie served its purpose admirably, but its time is over now.

I was in the taxi this morning on my way into town and I saw the strangest thing. On the curb at a major intersection there were three dolls set up. You know the type- white blond hair; large, blank, blue eyes. Anyways, they were just standing there, watching the traffic with their synthetic curls blowing in the breeze from passing cars. It was a little creepy. Who put them there? Why? And how were they able to stand on their own?

The mall here in Nelspruit is like my Cheers. We do all our computer work from a coffee shop called Mugg and Bean because they have great internet (and lattes, oh, the lattes). When I walked into good old M&B this morning the server greeted me and apologized because my “usual” table was already taken. The good men and women at the mail/laminating place are also pretty friendly. I don’t have to give them my name...or my order number, for that matter. I just walked in and they ran and got my laminated materials, checked the mail box, and inquired after the “orphans.” I suppose that they don’t have too many customers that regularly bring in drawings of chickens and poop and waterborne diseases (don’t be intimidated by the glamour of my job, I beg you) so I suppose it’s not too surprising that they remember me. But, for whatever reason, it’s nice to be known- to feel like you have a little place somewhere. You know?

I shall leave you with a video of three Karamajong women saying “Happy Birthday” to Ruco’s dad. Fantastic.