Okay, so I’ve been here for a day, but I haven’t done much yet. They’re insisting that I rest for the next few days. Apparently, they’re afraid that if I don’t rest, I’ll get malaria. I don’t particularly care to contract a deadly, life-long disease, either, so although I’m anxious to get out and see the world, I’m obedient. I really hope I don’t get malaria! That would be counterproductive. One of my goals in coming to Africa is to better myself. I think that by having an open mind and creating great life experiences, I’ll become a more cultured and more rounded individual. I hope to be interesting to talk to. My biggest fear is that one day I’ll be talking, and then I’ll just stop suddenly because I’ll have told everything about my life. I never want to run out of stories to tell! I think the more crazy, ridiculous experiences I have when I’m young, the longer I’ll be able to talk. I want to be a delightful, engaging old lady when I’m eighty, not a dull bore whom my family dreads to visit.
I just put up a mosquito net above my bed. Its purpose is to keep mosquitos and other bugs off me while I sleep, but I’m enjoying the aesthetic value as well. It looks like a canopy over my bed. I’ve always wanted a canopy bed! I spread a pink blanket over my bed. Tonight, I shall pretend that I’m a princess in my pink canopy bed. Even though my bed now looks prettier, however, my room in general isn’t pretty at all. The walls are just plain white. The curtains are Flintstones, which may be a great cartoon, but on curtains, it’s just not very pretty. There’s nothing wrong with not being pretty, but I think I’d be happier if my room were prettier.
You know, running water is overrated. Just do without! For me, the most difficult part of living without running water is remembering to keep my mouth closed when I pour water on my head. My natural reaction is to gasp when the cold water touches my hair, but it’s not at all safe to drink the water. I’m learning to gasp silently, with my mouth closed.
The thing I dislike about not having running water is using the toilet. In order to flush the toilet, you have to fill up the tank by hand using a bucket of water. I’m not strong enough to lift the bucket, so I use a cup with a handle. It takes about seven or eight cups to fill the tank enough to flush it. It’s not a big deal, just time consuming.
Maybe the lack of running water would bother me more if I had to fill up the buckets with water and haul them upstairs to the bathroom. As I haven’t been asked to do this yet, I don’t mind not having running water... it adds to the adventure!
We do have electricity, which is great. I can see after dark. I can charge my laptop so that I can write and listen to John Mayer. However, this too shall pass. During the dry season, they have to ration the electricity, so we’ll have rolling blackouts. Wonderful.
Okay, the reason why I’m writing so much right now is because I’m bored. Convents are comfortable, but very boring. I want to meet people! I want to get out there and see what there is to see! I know I need to be patient. Once I am settled and get into a routine, I’ll be able to venture out. I need to get adjusted to my new environment and the time difference first. I do have nine-and-a-half months, after all. Once I make friends my age and learn the public transportation system, my life will be great.
I miss my family. I miss my friends. I don’t miss America yet. In fact, I was quite annoyed to see McCain and Obama on TV today, especially after watching a Ghanian political rally. The politician and his men started singing and dancing! Soon, the whole crowd joined in! American politicians are so... dull. They’re just a bunch of pompous windbags who will say whatever it takes to get votes.
Oddly enough, I’m feeling very, very homesick for Paris. I guess I’m subconsciously comparing my first day here to my first day in Paris. Paris wins, of course. Every time.
You know, if I ever were to get married, I wonder if I’d compare my wedding night to my first night in Paris. I wonder which would win.