Written weeks ago, but finally posted

Happy 2010. I am so desperate (or so far from a decent library) that I am reading Atlas Shrugged and am mildly enjoying, if not the book, the irony of reading Ayn Rand in Africa. Consider that a plea to send good books.

So I am huddling here under my net again. The aforementioned cardboard/plastic-bag patch in my bedroom ceiling houses not only the tarantula, but also a swarm of mosquitoes, and my room is a loud whining hum at dusk. I race the swarm to tuck into the net by dark, around 6:30 p.m., and then read for an hour, which gives me a solid ten hours of sleep—just like a baby, one of the teachers told me yesterday. I sleep just like a baby. Except I doubt babies sweat this much.

I guest lectured about development aid in a social studies class a few weeks ago. It’s not, incidentally, a subject about which I am particularly knowledgeable, but I had the generous research assistance of a certain congressional attorney; also, the Peace Corps seems to encourage a fake-it-til-you-make-it philosophy that was convenient to apply in this case. Anyhow, it was all a big success, and I discovered I knew quite a bit more than I thought, and the teacher who invited me was delighted—although she was mainly pleased that the students seemed to understand my English. And of course they were probably also attentively fascinated because of the torrential rivers of sweat pouring down my face. At one point, my eyebrows failed to dam the stream and I was temporarily blinded by an endless flood of moisture so extensive I felt no embarrassment, only awe, at the seemingly infinite production capacity of my glands. I reached a chalky finger to pull hair from my face and re-channel the rivulets only to realize that my blouse, back and front, was soaked through and the tributaries of this river reached down in every direction, from my neck and to the backs of my knees. Sorry to beat the dead horse of that extended metaphor but it was really hot and I was sweating a whole lot, and it was gross and amazing and I suppose I would have paid attention too if I were a student watching this azungu lady morph into a garden hose like the doorman of the Emerald City. It is HOT.

You may have noticed the lack of photos posted so far. Apologies! I have time-traveled back to that dark age before big bandwidth and high-speed internet. Can you even remember? Try not to, because it is a cold and unforgiving barely digital landscape. There is, in fact, only one computer with a USB port at the nearest internet cafe (which I am fortunate enough to live near, but not wealthy enough to visit). One of these days I’ll make it into the Lilongwe PC office and get some up, though. Promise.

And, finally, recently I helped the school office process grade reports. The following are a few teacher's comments:
“Pull up your socks”
“MSCE is not a joke boy”
“Be serious”
“Work more harder”

:)