In the absence of Petsmart and bridges...

Just as I sat down to write a quick blog, Asad ran into the house with a huge goat horn hanging out of the side of his mouth. It looks ridiculous. I'm not quite sure how he aquired such a treasure, (I'm a little scared to find out) but lately it has proven to be his new favorite toy and I find it lying around everywhere. In fact, the only way we can get him to play fetch is to throw the goat horn across the yard. Goat horns. Who knew? He couldn't be happier though.

Anyway, I don't have anything terribly interesting to write about today and certainly don't want to digress into describing everything my dog attempts to drag into the house. Bryan and I are heading out of town tomorrow to (hopefully) attend a traditional ceremony in a nearby community so I wanted to write before we left. I'm not sure how long we will be gone as details on the occasion are proving hard to come by, but hopefully I will have more interesting things to describe when we get home.

It's been an incedibly pleasant week. You wouldn't believe how cool and wet it has been lately with the rains coming more and more frequently. If you popped in for a visit right now you would think I was the biggest liar in the world for complaining about the heat of a few months ago. On the mornings I have to put my fleece on while eating breakfast I almost doubt my memory too. The hill behind our house is so green now it looks like something in an exotic golf course. The other day we drove out of town and passed through a small village by a stream meandering through rolling hills. I swear it looked like an image from an alternate reality - like a Scottish countryside colonized by Africa years ago. It's downright bizarre - and so beautiful.

As welcome as the rain has been, we did run into our first complication because of it a few days ago. We had made a trip out to a village about 50 kilometers away to visit a friend who and moved there recently, and ended up spending the night in his home. When we got ready to leave the next day however, we found the river we had easily crossed in the ATV the day before was now swollen and rushing with brown water after a night full of rain. We spent about an hour on the banks of the river calculating depth, velocity, inclines and power, and weighing how much we wanted to get home before dark against how stupid we would feel if submerged our vehicle in a seasonal river for six months. After discussion and critical analysis with a handful of curious soldiers, herdsmen and a few women passing by to get water, we finally decided that there was a good chance that the river was at its lowest point until the dry season begins again, and if we wanted to get this thing home before Thanksgiving, this was our shot. With the help of amused onlookers, Bryan dug out a new path down the river bank to a shallower point of entry into the water. My job was to stand out of the way and video the whole thing, while praying to high heaven the whole time that it would work. I wish so badly our internet connection would allow me to upload the video here because it really is amazing. Needless to say, we all made it home, a little damp, but pretty impressed with our little beast of a machine. She may not be a Land Cruiser, but she can hold her own.
However, it has rained hard every day since we have been back so I can only imagine what the river is like now. When we go back tomorrow we are planning on just leaving the ATV on this side of the river, and crossing on foot. She may be a beast but there is no reason to press our luck!

This picture was taken on the way in - before all the rain.

20 questions with three little boys at the borehole:

Boys: Are you here to get water?

Me: Yes.

Boys: Why?

Me: Because we don't have any water at our house right now.

Boys: Where is your house?

Me: Near the small mountain over there. Where is your house?

Boys: Just over there. Does it ever rain at your house?

Me: Sometimes.

Boys: Is that your husband?

Me: Yes.

Boys: What is his name?

Me: Bryan.

Boys: Ibrahim?

Me: Uh, yes. Ibrahim.

Boys: What's your name?

Me: Libby.

Boys: Lee-lee?

Me: Lee-bee.

Boys: Where are your children, Lee-dee?

Me: I don't have any children.

Boys: You don't have any children?

Me: Not yet.

Boys: Why?

Me: God hasn't given me any.

Boys: Do you have one in your stomach? (patting my belly)

Me: Uh, no. Not that I know of.

Boys: Do you want babies?

Me: Yes, I would love to have babies.

Boys: Do you want red ones?

Me: Excuse me?

Boys: Do you want red ones? (Rubbing my arms) Like you?

Me: Yes, red ones would be very nice.

Boys: What about black ones? (Rubbing their own arms) Do you want black ones?

Me: If God gives me black ones I will be very happy too.

Boys: Do you have beds at your house?

Me: Yes, we have a bed at our house.

Boys: Do you sleep in the bed?

Me: Yes, I sleep in the bed.

Boys: Does your husband sleep in that little car?

Me: No, he sleeps in the bed too.

Boys: You both sleep in the bed?

Me: Uh...yes.

Boys: (Giggling hysterically) Why?

Me: Um, isn't that your sister calling you to come eat?

Boys: Yeah, but we don't want to go right now.

Me: You don't want breakfast?

Boys: What do you cook at your house?

Me: Sometimes I cook rice-

Boys: We don't eat rice.

Me: Okay, we also eat lentils and bread. Sometimes potatoes...

Boys: We LOVE potatoes!

Me: Really?

Boys: Potatoes are delicious!

Me: Okay. Good to know.

Boys: Do you have a dog at your house?

Me: Actually I do.

Boys: What is his name?

Me: Asad.

Boys: Is he a red dog?

Me: No he is brown and white.

Boys: Really?

Me: Yup.

Boys: Are you sure he isn't red too, Lee-dee?

Me: Quite sure.

World Cup

I am convinced that if all the energy and love and passion that will be poured into the World Cup over the next four weeks could be channeled into international politics, we would have centuries of a utopian existence ahead of us. The hopes and fears of the entire world are focused in one place and one time and revolve around the crazy love of one game. Of course, in reality this probably means that if all that emotion really could be channeled to a bigger arena we would end up with eons of the most destructive wars known to mankind instead of world peace, but I can dream.

On Saturday night the USA was due to kick off the tournament in their opening match against England, a game we were determined not to miss. (I think every American in the world watching the World Cup feels it is their patriotic duty to support our team in their underdog status.) The problem was finding a place that we could actually see the match. Sports bars or even restaurants with satellite TV are unheard of here, and we were deeply grieved to discover that the one organization in town that we knew did have a satellite feed was also mourning the broken state of their television. We had heard of a place that was trying to stream games live from the internet and suspected one of the local government offices would let us peek over shoulders to see their mini-screen. But we figured our best bet would be showing up under the floodlights and sandbagged walls of the UN fortress with a plate of cookies and a big smile to see if we could charm our way into their international-airport-lounge world. We were not above the bribing.

But as we drove down the road at ten o'clock on Saturday night, making our humble way to the orange glow on the horizon, we had to make a routine stop at a military checkpoint. In the moments it took for the soldier to greet us and lower the guardrail (really just a piece of rope strung across the road) I glimpsed a dull pulse of light in the shadows just ahead of us. I squinted into the darkness as we rolled down the road and realized what I was seeing was a small TV set up outside with a group of about twenty men gathered around it. We slowed the ATV down and peered into the shadows, trying to make out what was showing on the screen. When we felt pretty sure the blue specks on a green background were people, we eased the ATV off the road and parked next to the huge trucks and bulldozers circling the road construction camp. As we stepped out of our vehicle and moved hesitantly towards the island of flickering light, I grew increasingly sure that what I was hearing was "The Star Spangled Banner" under the drone of a diesel generator. Hope springs eternal.

The road construction workers seemed a bit surprised to see us walking in somewhat sheepishly but welcomed us like we had been filling potholes all day right alongside them. They scrounged up a couple more chairs and happily insisted that even though they were all rooting for England, we were more than welcome to support our country with them. This was said with a friendly smile that suggested the USA needed all the help they could get, which made me laugh. The plate of snickerdoodles we offered seemed to seal the deal and we settled in under the swarm of flying termites alongside two dozen men in white jallabias to watch the game on Al Jazeera Sports and listen to a running commentary in Arabic of which I could only catch fragments. (Although I did learn that the Arabic word for "sweet" is used at sporting events just like you might hear it used in English.) The icing on the cake was when a British guy from the demining camp down the road and an Irish girl from another organization showed up to add to the occasion. He made his loyalties good-naturedly clear. She said she couldn't decide which was the worst of two evils. ( :

Cheering for the red, white and blue isn't something I have done very much of in my life, for reasons that start with simple opportunity and meander on from there. But I have to say that I really enjoyed doing it on Saturday night. I enjoyed it because we were the underdogs that no one expected much from. I enjoyed it because it was just a game with implications I wouldn't be ashamed of. I enjoyed it because we were in the company of people who seemed to enjoy our presence as much as we did theirs. I enjoyed it because our team had names on their jerseys like "Onyewu" and "Gomez". And I enjoyed it because it put me in the company of the rest of the world - desperately hoping for the best, fearfully agonizing over the worst, cheering for a country that sometimes frustrates me but that at the end of the day I really, really love.

The game ended with a tie, which seemed to please everyone, even our demining friend. The night ended and people from at least four different countries shook hands good night and made their way home to sleep of the late-night revelry and get ready for another busy day of building roads, finding land-mines, learning a language or managing a business.

So I'll admit, the World Cup may not ever usher in an era of world peace. But it does make for some mighty fine cookies at midnight with friends.

Garden

The weather has changed as dramatically as if someone somewhere pushed the big red "RAINY SEASON" button in the sky. Thick blankets of clouds have rolled over the horizon bringing long wet days and deliciously cool nights. Animals we haven't seen in months have suddenly crawled, hopped, squirmed and fluttered out of nowhere leaving us wondering where they have been for six months and how they all got back at the same time. Frogs wallow in the wet sand just off our porch and create a riotous symphony of croaks all night. Flocks of ibis fleck the dark skies with white wings in the evening and bright red velvet mites are scattered across the yard in the mornings like misplaced Christmas confetti. If we stay up too late after dinner, moths swarm our little kitchen island of light leaving us feeling like we are sitting in a lifesized zoo terranium. Last night was one of those nights where there were literally hundreds of moths swirling around us. I seriously almost expected to look out the kitchen window and see a group of fourth garders on a field trip peeking in. ("On your right children you will see the moth exhibit. Please note how interested they are in the fruit on the plates of the people who are trying to eat their dinner...")

There are so many things to love about the rainy season (mosquitos not being one of them). We are sleeping so comfortably in sheets unsoured by sweat and the hill behind our house is so intensely green it almost looks blue. But one of our favorite things about the rain has been starting a garden. Bryan and I know just next to nothing about gardening but have had fun rooting around in the damp earthiness with shovels and seeds and bugs. We have planted some local things - seasame, corn, hot peppers and potatoes, as well as some seeds we brought with us - lettuce, spinach, carrots, bell peppers and cilantro. And we are so excited to already see a few enthusiastic sprouts poking their heads out through the clods.

It is beautiful to see new life unfurling all around us. Especially beautiful is seeing is shake off the dust it is pushing through and growing out of. Along with all the weeds, the most common thing we have had to dig up and toss out of our garden is bullet casings.

Zanzibar

We’re back! Although some of you may think that we are suffering silently on the far side of the world, those of you with any skills of observation will quickly realize we are living lives of the spoiled rotten! Although this includes many day to day joys and blessings, one of the biggest reasons we are so lucky is that our lives and jobs allow us to travel to some of the most amazing places in the world. This month Bryan and I are celebrating four years of marriage and in honor of the occasion we decided to take a bit of a vacation on the island of Zanzibar off the coast of Tanzania. (Yeah, look it up. You will never feel sorry for us again.) Oh, my friends...

It. was. Wonderful.

We spent the first couple of days exploring the historic city of Stone Town. The town (at least the “historic” part of it) is a maze of old forts, museums, churches and mosques sectioned off by spider-web like - alleys full of antique stores, curio shops, fruit vendors and fish markets. We had a lot of fun just walking around looking at old things and eating copious amounts of sea-food in the open air market at night. The next five days we bummed out at a beach resort on the far North-Eastern part of the Island. It’s really good that Bryan and I are together in this because he keeps me from being a complete vegetable with a book by the pool, and I keep him from being fried at the end of the week from playing too hard. So together we swam, read, kayaked, played cards, scuba dove (dived?), napped, sailed, ate (and ate and ate), body surfed and slept. All week long. We were lucky with the weather because even though it was rainy season (which meant better prices and fewer people) we had mostly sunny days. In fact the only day it rained was the day we had decided to go scuba diving. And then it really ended up being something more akin to a tropical monsoon. I think we got wetter at the surface than we did under it. But we really did have a couple great dives and see some beautiful things (despite a decompression stop at five meters in which I threw up under water – that was a new one for me!).

Another blessing was a quick stop in at my parent’s house on the mainland on our way back home to say goodbye to my baby sister who is heading off to college in a few weeks. As sad as we are to be that much further away from her very soon, we are so excited for her and can’t wait to see her again at Christmas.

Bryan and I got home yesterday and are so happy to be here. The rains have started up so the world around us is in the early flushes of green and we actually slept with a sheet over us last night! We were so happy to see our teammates as well as Asad and Nimir, who I still think must be the most spoiled animals in this country. So now, it’s back to the daily grind, but we are back feeling a bit revived. It is good to be home – bucket baths and all.