Couch

Two weeks ago, we dragged ourselves into the compound covered in mud, soaked to the bone and freezing cold after a crazy drive home from our trip out West. The drive back to hours longer than it should have as black cotton mud caked our wheels solid about every kilometer, locking us into immobility. Even after the guys scraped tens of pounds of mud out of the wheel wells and we could continue inching our way down the road, it often took two of us to fight the steering wheel into place so we wouldn't go careening off into the bush. Our poor little golf-cart-on-steroids was probably scared into performance by the sight of dozens of other vehicles half swallowed in mud and abandoned until the dry season. Altogether we counted one lorry, one tractor, two tractor trailers and six motorcycles- all casualties of the rainy season roads. Since being back we've decided that the next few months will probably be more wisely spent in office work, language learning and home repairs than travelling.

So, we've spent the last few weeks working on our little house. Our teammates flew in on a chartered flight with supplies a few days ago and I honestly felt like Laura Ingalls Wilder greeting Pa as he came in on the wagon. Not only did we have a few boxes of peanut butter, olive oil, cornmeal, shortening, vinegar, spices (and yes, Nutella) but we also had a COUCH! I feel so materialistic saying this, but I have to confess, this chunk of wood and cushioning has changed my world. I love having a couch! It's a futon actually, a very blasé piece of unoriginal craftsmanship purchased at the East African equivalent of Wal-Mart, and a few character-adding scratches show it had a rough trip in the back of the Cessna Caravan. But setting it down in our living room you would think we were looking at an 18^th century French armoire. We have a couch. We can sit on it and read a book in the evenings. We can welcome guests into it for a cup of tea. We can even take a nap there on rainy Sunday afternoons. A couch. I had no idea it would be such a big deal.

I have also been enjoying my newly rearranged kitchen. It is now separate from the dining room/living room and my shelves are painted. I have been enjoying cooking so much more now that I have more space, privacy and a prettier view of the little mountain. I remember when my kitchen was the front porch of our tent and my stove was a little camp burner. When we moved into this building with nothing more than a few trunks and a set of plastic chairs and table I felt like we had moved into a mansion. And now I have a gas stove and oven, gas refrigerator, solar electricity and a pantry full of things to eat other than lentils. It's amazing how really
simple living can make fairly simple living seem so luxurious. Or maybe more amazing is how quickly luxurious living can become discontenting (I don't know if that is a word but it is the one I want to use). Hmmm...

I promise though, all I need to be happy is my Nutella.