can your really chew through anything?

Nov. 14 / 09 - SLUMBER PARTY!!!

Me, Heather, Joe (UKers) and Zee (USA) went to the Nautico Club for sodas, went for an ocean swim then had lunch. The Nautico Club is a ritzy, ocean front restaurant / café, and also has a pool. Jumping into the ocean on this HOTT day was absolutely satisfying. Joe just recently bought a 4 bedroom flat and so we had a slumber party, even though each of us got our own rooms to sleep in. We got fancy cakes and had tea and sat on her second floor veranda chatting… mostly fussing over the funny, different things UKers and North American say. I want to try and adopt some > such as ‘balderdash’ Hah, makes me smile every time.

Nov. 17 / 09 – 3 months in Mozambique

13:02 - I have thought that I have been very patient with all the waiting I have practiced in these 3 months in Africa. Perhaps my patience is running thin about now. By the suggestion of colleagues I am to get my hurting feet checked out, and so yesterday I went to a foot doctor, only to be sent to another doctor, to be sent to another doctor, for them to tell me to go to the hospital. At this point it was the end of the day and was too late to chapa back to KEDESH safely and too late to go to the hospital. I had made plans with the boys to teach me to make matapa (a Mozambican dish) and felt like I was letting them down, but I had to sleep in the city. This morning I went to the hospital and waited 4 hours with colleagues. I wanted to tell him many times that I would rather just go back and not worry about it at all. Riding in a chapa 8 hours is better then 4 hours of stagnant waiting, not going anywhere, not knowing if you are or when you will be served. Turns out the doctor was not there and was not coming in. The knot in my throat swelled as I wanted to cry because the wasted time and the people I let down. The rain outside is a metaphor to how I felt all morning, but I am happy to be back at KEDESH. I am not waiting for things not to arrive.

16:48 – My hands are covered in filth. The one night I was out of my room, the rat I have been dealing with decides to take sweet action. I opened my suitcase of cloths, activities and art supplies to have found my black-India-ink bottle chewed open on all sides. Cloths, art supplies and other various items have been covered in the black ink, as well as other various things chewed. Hours of cleaning, things still are covered in a black layer (including my hands and my peeling, laminated bedroom floor). My hiking-pack on my bed had also been a place of venturing for the rat, for he chewed open bottles of liquid, which spilled on cloths and other various items, leaving interesting mixtures of smells soiling them. The rattrap set up, generously offering a delicious prune, was left untouched, and my bar of soap was ravaged instead. I’m not sure how many there are, but it or they are going to get it.