07h00
Facebook Status: Single, seeking to want to be in a relationship
Facebook Status: Single, seeking to want to be in a relationship
Guys are weird. I realize now that I have descended so deep into spinsterhood that I can no longer see the light of Disney – and, quite frankly, it's not so bad. I know a guy who told his then-girlfriend that she'd be a stunner if she lost some weight. Thank God she let him live (even going so far as to marry him for the greater Good). Why men concern themselves with our weight when we're already so deeply concerned by it is a mystery to me; it's just resulted in an entire industry built on sweating instead of eating ice cream the way God intended.
The neighbours around our apartment building include a group of young men who generally loiter and stare when possible (in my mothertongue, we call them 'mouth-watchers'). The first day I moved back from my friend's mansion, they conversationally noted in Swahili that I'd gained weight. I am assured (by American males who have no interest in me but, on the other hand, may not be the best judges of body shape – sorry, America) that this is either insane or in approval.
Other men think I'm lying when I cover my face. “Oh, like it's cold. Lies!” was a muttered Swahili comment one morning. He was right; I'd been using my scarf to avoid their stares, but he had no right to call me on it! I shot him such a dirty look that he hasn't said anything since. If only this worked with the Tigo salespeople (whom I'd thought had moved due to construction in their office area of the street) who are growing more rambunctious.
But I can't entirely blame them; foreigners tend to stay in trucks and jeeps, and if I saw one on the street, I'd stare and be desperate in my approach as well. If integration and care is the goal of aid workers here, they are mainly failing; if I were a local, I'd think white people were born and raised in land cruisers and needed alcohol and air conditioner for life support when they descended to Earth.
12h00
Facebook Status: Engaged in madness
I recently went on a church picnic where I discovered that the facilities boasted locks on the outside of the doors.
I, who normally disdain public toilets and and the practice of going to pee in flocks, briefly debated fetching Carrottop to guard my door - and maybe hold my hand because the bathroom was dark and dirty and so very lonely... In the end, I decided to have mercy on both of us and did the ol' Crouching Tiger, Holding-the-Door-Shut Dragon trick. If you are a man who's never had to think about women using squatty potties or dirty toilets, sometimes on their periods, I suggest you do so now. Then resolve to be less irritatingly smug in your daily attitude and work habits.
Continuing this theme of incomprehensibility, our apartment on the third floor has its kitchen cupboards on the outside - as if it is not enough that I must open a door and step outside to wash my hands and wash or put away dirty dishes. I remember biting my tongue when we first viewed the house and everybody was cooing over the greater space in the outdoor washing area: But what in all-fired heck are we going to do out here – whip/nae nae?!
Now I know.
The neighbours around our apartment building include a group of young men who generally loiter and stare when possible (in my mothertongue, we call them 'mouth-watchers'). The first day I moved back from my friend's mansion, they conversationally noted in Swahili that I'd gained weight. I am assured (by American males who have no interest in me but, on the other hand, may not be the best judges of body shape – sorry, America) that this is either insane or in approval.
Other men think I'm lying when I cover my face. “Oh, like it's cold. Lies!” was a muttered Swahili comment one morning. He was right; I'd been using my scarf to avoid their stares, but he had no right to call me on it! I shot him such a dirty look that he hasn't said anything since. If only this worked with the Tigo salespeople (whom I'd thought had moved due to construction in their
But I can't entirely blame them; foreigners tend to stay in trucks and jeeps, and if I saw one on the street, I'd stare and be desperate in my approach as well. If integration and care is the goal of aid workers here, they are mainly failing; if I were a local, I'd think white people were born and raised in land cruisers and needed alcohol and air conditioner for life support when they descended to Earth.
12h00
Facebook Status: Engaged in madness
I recently went on a church picnic where I discovered that the facilities boasted locks on the outside of the doors.
Maybe the builder thought he was being innovative - thinking outside the box and encouraging the rest of us poor schmucks to defy imprisonment too. Or maybe he needed to quit getting plastered with the builder who created my crooked bathroom.
I, who normally disdain public toilets and and the practice of going to pee in flocks, briefly debated fetching Carrottop to guard my door - and maybe hold my hand because the bathroom was dark and dirty and so very lonely... In the end, I decided to have mercy on both of us and did the ol' Crouching Tiger, Holding-the-Door-Shut Dragon trick. If you are a man who's never had to think about women using squatty potties or dirty toilets, sometimes on their periods, I suggest you do so now. Then resolve to be less irritatingly smug in your daily attitude and work habits.
Continuing this theme of incomprehensibility, our apartment on the third floor has its kitchen cupboards on the outside - as if it is not enough that I must open a door and step outside to wash my hands and wash or put away dirty dishes. I remember biting my tongue when we first viewed the house and everybody was cooing over the greater space in the outdoor washing area: But what in all-fired heck are we going to do out here – whip/nae nae?!
Now I know.
On the plus side, our wet laundry can now drip on heads from three floors up.
(Just kidding - it'll still drip in our living room.)
13h00
Facebook Status: Married to the game
When we move, we will also pick up a new roommate in the form of Timbit, who is bite-sized, sweet, and likely dangerous to our health unless we stay active. She has fed me actual timbits, likes to walk, and owns books, so I expect to love her forever and ever, but I am definitely not looking forward to sharing a bathroom and straining our water situation any further.
13h00
Facebook Status: Married to the game
When we move, we will also pick up a new roommate in the form of Timbit, who is bite-sized, sweet, and likely dangerous to our health unless we stay active. She has fed me actual timbits, likes to walk, and owns books, so I expect to love her forever and ever, but I am definitely not looking forward to sharing a bathroom and straining our water situation any further.
Grandpa has been struggling for two days now to hook up a water pump while I resist the urge to buy straitjackets for my entire team on Craigslist. Despite his work, it is unclear as to whether the impasse with REGIDESO will break before my sanity. We have not received water in around a week, though it has rained in that time, I have not been able to do laundry for longer, and the Phoenix (when he comes) will now be doing laundry for two people – thus leaving even less water for me to desperately ration. As used clothes cost roughly 50 cents here, I may just recycle clothes instead of drawing up a business plan for an escort service that charges gallons of water.
1600h
Facebook Status: Divorced from reality
The only positive of the past few days has been following global news and waiting for the developed world to join the chaos caused by deranged leaders in the developing world. Coloured women are angry with white women; many women are angry with Trump; Trump is angry with feminists; feminists are angry with pro-lifers; Maybelline is still using the 'Maybe she's born with it' slogan; and The Gambia has a new president after 22 years, an election, and tanks.
2018 looks very far away and yet not far enough.
The weather is here; wish you were beautiful.
1600h
Facebook Status: Divorced from reality
The only positive of the past few days has been following global news and waiting for the developed world to join the chaos caused by deranged leaders in the developing world. Coloured women are angry with white women; many women are angry with Trump; Trump is angry with feminists; feminists are angry with pro-lifers; Maybelline is still using the 'Maybe she's born with it' slogan; and The Gambia has a new president after 22 years, an election, and tanks.
2018 looks very far away and yet not far enough.
The weather is here; wish you were beautiful.
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