Sunday, August 5, 2012

A couple laughs that I call Life.

The Goat Incident:

This afternoon I walked home from the clinic and found a single white baby goat trapped inside my compound.  Eyes wide, the poor little goat trotted around aimlessly searching for a way out.  I smiled to myself and opened the gate thinking I would just be able to chase the little guy out so he could go find his mom. What I thought would be a simple task turned into a 20 minute fiasco.  The stupid goat wouldn’t even let me get near it without scampering off in the wrong direction.  After sprinting around my yard, having the neighbor children laugh at me, and clapping and jumping at the goat, I watched as it FINALLY scuttled outside the gate.  I wiped a drip of sweat off my forehead and couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment. I smiled, as the one word that swirled around my head was, “FREEDOM!”

Just a normal afternoon in Gobojango.


Doing Laundry:

I’m not sure if I’ve shared with you my distain for doing laundry.  I’ve always hated it.  Even in Tucson I would go a couple weeks before actually getting around to washing my clothes…and that’s when I had access to a washer and dryer.  Now, it’s even worse that I have to devote an entire morning to doing it since I must wash my clothes by hand.  Anyway, yesterday I woke very early to begin washing my sheets and blankets.  I let them soak for an hour before I began carefully scrubbing them.  About a half an hour later, I used some intense elbow grease to ring out the water and soap from the fabric, and pile them in my laundry basket.  As I reached high to hang the ornery sheets on the line, the chord snapped and all the clean, fresh-smelling laundry that I had just washed slumped into a massive pile of mud, material, and mess.  I looked helplessly down at the mud-spattered sheets and let out a feeble sigh.  This meant I had to wash them all over again.  I collected the dripping fabric, threw it back into the laundry basket and began the process all over again.  During the soaking procedure, I re-tied the cable to make sure that it would not break again.  Finally, after what felt like eternity of scrubbing, I collected the clean sheets again and set off to dry them.  I hung each sheet and blanket up again, clothes pin by clothes pin.  With the last pillow case, I stacked a couple cement blocks atop one another to reach the height of the chord near the top.  Tippy-toed, I closed the final clothes pin and smiled to myself in accomplishment.  Next thing I knew, the cement block under my toes doubled over, my feet flung over my head, and I was staring up at the dripping laundry from the flat of my back.  My lip quivered and tears welled in my eyes (whether it was because I had landed on my shoulder or more from embarrassment, I don’t quite remember), and to my horror, I watched as the cable snapped yet again in a different location over my head.  My laundry glided down towards my face, tauntingly, and assumed its position on the ground.

I never want to do laundry again.


In conclusion...

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