Last Day

I was in the pyramids, looking at mummies with missing noses-- someone told me they were WWII soldiers – and elephants were running around “Sarah, do you still want to go running? it is 6:20!” “Where am I?” Oh yeah, the village-- starting my last day. My friend, Leah and I pulled ourselves together for jogging. On the road, a group of elementary boys laughing and shouting “muzungu” got a run for their money. I chased them down and told them I was going to eat them. Last night, when a kid asked me for money, I grabbed him by the shirt, pulled his dirty little face up to mine and explained-- in the local language-- why that was a very bad idea. Further down the road, a group of women smiled and genuinely seemed happy to see us-- nice to see women brave enough to run.
We got home and took our bucket baths-- I can bathe, wash and condition my hair, and scrub the calluses off of my feet with 3 liters of water! Over our oatmeal, peanut butter, and honey breakfast, we talked about kashi and raisin bran-- ahhhhh-- made me so hungry I ate a second bowl. I then wondered what I would do today. Would I visit a village savings group this morning? Would I do monitoring in the afternoon? It was already 9:30, so the man I was supposed to meet at 8 was not yet there. Every day really is the same. As I stood on the front porch, wondering what to do, a group of students carried a screaming, quivering student by. “She has demons-- as usual” they reported.
Within a few hours, the demons were out and by three (yes, 7 hours late), I was in the village, doing a Typhoid talk. In the between, however, some people surprised me with gifts of fabric (even though my goodbye party is over) and I had a nice talk with a friend. It never changes!