incommunicato

I may have spelled that wrong the English way, but in Italian it mean the same thing: out of touch, lacking in what was once the ability to communicate.

It's not by choice, I can assure you. For I have lots of stories and if I had it my way I would be running to tell them whenever a spare moment arose. No, it's not a question of laziness or irresponsible reporting. I am, however, residing in the 4th poorest country in the world and to be hooked up at all is pretty remarkable. But when it comes to reliability, quite frankly technology here sucks!

Brian and Cynthia, the first interns on this project prepared what they called an "Intern Survival Manual." Under the "Lessons Learned" subtitle they included the phrase:

"Your paitience will be tested daily."

Well isn't that the case? Life just moves so slowly here that you have to adapt. One of our yogurt fridge plugs/adapters blew up today (thank you power surge) among other things. So no food for us in our fridge, just yogurt. Jars and jars of yogurt.
I like the pace though, other than the inconvenience of having to wait for everything and anything. And Africa, Tanzania at least does provoke you to find out more about it. Maybe it's the labyrinth-esque infrastructure of the city or the shy smiles of the watoto (children). This country has a unique way of drawing you in. In a more optimistic moment a few days ago I wrote:

"I can understand how Brian and Cynthia were able to accomplish so much here. Africa lends you its time, its slow rhythm and its dramatic pauses for contemplation, soul-searching, planning, discovery and faith. It lets you inhale its essence in slow, deep breaths and beckons for you to look inside. Africa becomes a part of you and in turn (since it is so interstitially with you) drives you and guides you to caress it and to help heal it."

This is how I want to come to feel. I'm working towards it.

Last night we got meat from the butcher aka a small shack onthe side of the road with large meat slabs hanging from it. We ordered a half kilo of I don't even know what and the "butcher", using a tree stump as a block, hacked off a piece with a small axe. I'm so meant to be a vegetarian.

Pictures soon. As soon as the internet behaves itself!
Sorry about the scattered nature of this post. More asap
love and miss you all :)