Day Uhh...? This is where I live now.

Today, I was productive. I had class in the morning and took diligent notes. We had a diplomatic to the U.S., from South Africa, come and give a lecture. From what I could hear and understand, it was pretty interesting. I basically came to the conclusion that all developing countries leach onto the United States like parasites and suck the blood from it as much as it can. And it seems that the U.S. just…lets it happen, knowing that it’s happening.

I should probably ask what that’s all about when I get back home.

Anyway, after classes, I went to the café down the road and had a fried egg and a smoothie. The internet sucked there, so I left to go make copies of my textbook and get my internet time activated. I came back home and took a shower, did my laundry, went to see if my internet worked. I was, indeed, graced with the gift of internet. Praise Jesus. I can now talk to my boyfriend at night. That’s literally all I wanted it for, really. I could do without it otherwise.

I finished my laundry and cleaned my room. I put the clean clothes away. And now, here I am, sitting down to write.

~|~

Last night we all went out for drinks – and, of course, when I say “we” I mean they; I just watched. So we all went out to Hatfield Square, with all its pubs and bars and lounges. It’s where all the riche students of Pretoria gather to drink and stand around in the cold or have some laughs (or, in last night’s case, some cries). I don’t know what to equate it to in Norman. It’s just where everyone convenes. So we went there.

Happy Hour starts at 6 p.m. and lasts until 7. Drinks are already cheap here, but during happy hour at the Cheeky Monkey, you can get two drinks for the price of one. All the foreigners were all over that. I ordered my Sprite and the waiter looked confused and asked me if that was it. I smiled sweetly and innocently and said, Yep!

So I took my sparkling Sprite to the table with all the other girls who carried their drinks, one in each hand. I sat among them and sipped mine.

“What did you get?” they’d ask.
“Sprite!” I’d answer.
“Sprite?! Why Sprite? You don’t drink?!”
“Nope!”
“What? Why?!”
“I just never have. And I promised my boyfriend I wouldn’t.”
“What? Why?!”
“Because I made him promise me he wouldn’t.”
“What? Why?!”
“Because I don’t want him doing anything!”
“And he’ll only do something if he’s drunk? Nooooo…”
I smiled and confidently said, “Not mine.”

They were astounded.

And I was bored. I’m like the little sister of the group. I think everyone is older than me. Their interests are different – they want to drink and party, go to the mall and shop; they want to have shots and go dancing.

And I don’t.

I would love to. I would be all for it. If Reston were here. And I’m not even disappointed that I feel that way. I don’t feel tied down; I don’t feel like I’m missing out. I just want him here with me. I really, really just want him here with me.

It’s such a freaking hassle to love someone.

Things I Will Never Again Take For Granted:

1) Wireless internet – anywhere you go, any time, any place, always, forever.
2) My school’s smooth system (Yes, even OU’s system seems smooth – almost flawless – compared to that of UP).
3) Wal-Mart.
4) Police officers that actually arrest people when they commit crimes.
5) People who dress casually at school.
6) 911
7) Free, non-gated buildings.
8) The ability to carry my purse casually behind me because I know nothing’s going to happen to it.
9) 2010 technology.
10) American English; I don’t have to think twice about what it’s saying, I can just hear it and know.
11) American universities’ scheduling system: MWF, TTH, same days, same times, same places. Every time. Never fails.
12) Rice milk – in the carton.
13) PEI WEI!!!!! Kids gluten-free Pei Wei spicy on brown rice with shrimp. And iced chai-tea.
14) MEXICAN FOOD!!! Delicious tortilla chips and hot salsa with beans and rice and tortillas and fajitas and enchiladas and, and, and…
15) My shower head.
16) Heat in homes and in buildings.
17) The ability to buy used books instead of brand new ones every time.
18) American time – where people actually rush if their late.
19) Kisses from my boo.
20) Doors without barred gates.


July 25, 2010

I’m taking a lazy weekend off. Because I need one, and because I want one.

Life in Africa is different from life at home – if you didn’t notice before. It just seems slower, and it takes some getting used to for me. It’s slower, but the days pass quicker so that while I’m in the middle of it all, I really don’t know what day it is.

But it’s Sunday, I know that, and I was awoken by heavy knocks on my bedroom door. I tried to ignore it the first time, and it almost did go away. But it came back and so I got up to see who it was. It was no one – ah, but then her head poked around the corner and she asked me something about needing Band-Aids. I had no idea what she was talking about, and neither did she. So I went back to bed. But I was awoken again to an inquiry of whether I wanted to go to some museums – like, now – or just go back to bed. I chose bed, even though I probably should have chosen the museums. I just feel like sitting in the sun and reading outside, though. There’ll be plenty of time for museums.

I spent half the day sleeping yesterday and half the day cooking for our briie in the evening.

But, of course, as I was sure it would happen, I am the mother of the house, who cleans up everyone’s mess. No one likes to do their dishes, or remove their pans from the stove when they’re finished cooking. No one likes to wipe down the counter. No one really cares. So I’ve taken up the mantle of mother – because I am more my mother every year of my life – and I cleaned the kitchen completely before my day was allowed to begin.

Madison came right as I finished, and we went to the café (as usual), and I got one fried egg and a tropical smoothie (the usual). We stayed there for no more than an hour before we walked to the book store so that Madison could get a book for class. They only had one, though.

So then we made our way to the grocery store to pick up some things for each of us.

At home, we began dicing potatoes. I was my mother all day, cooking and telling Madison and Matt, who joined us later, what spices to shake onto the vegetables. We seasoned up some chicken, too. And by the time we were finished we had a poor man’s meal, wrapped in foil and ready to be put on the grill. We made seasoned potatoes, Jeanie-style. We cut up green and yellow bell peppers and onion, added mushrooms and garlic to the mix and seasoned those in olive oil, salt and pepper. And our chicken was shaken in olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic, and some chicken seasoning I bought at the store.

After, we took our foil-wrapped packages to Matt’s fridge and then went outside to read on a blanket in front of the boys’ house. Peter and Nick sat in chairs on the other side of the lawn, listening to the radio, drinking some beers and chatting. Occasionally they kicked the ball around.

Shane, the other American whom I have yet to introduce, began to prepare the grill for a fire.

So we sat around, all of us, in the warmer version of winter winter air and peace and calm.

We eventually fizzled out of our places, and dispersed around the house, busying ourselves with absolutely nothing important and nothing demanding. Nick and Peter, Deputies of the Beer Department, went out to buy some beer for the briie. Shane continued to work on the fire and take a break to kick a ball around with the little daughter of the Heads of House.

Madison and I watched Matt do the dishes. The nasty dishes that the other guys had left around, caked in crusted food. The Boys of House 15 had promised that their house wouldn’t be the anomaly on the block; but they’re hardly living up to that expectation. We critiqued the house and the general way Matthew was washing the dishes, while coming to the conclusion (though it had already been come to) that boys, guys, men – all kinds, gay, straight, whatever – are disgusting.

Around 6 or 6:30, people started showing up with their meat and other foods in hand. We soon had over 20 people gathered inside the dining room of House 15, and outside sitting around the fire on the porch. Some people sat in a circle in the grass, talking and laughing. People from beyond our gated residence came to the party. Everyone plopped their meat on the grill and people stood around, flipping them as they needed it, and dishing them out when they were ready.

The potatoes were taking too long, so I grilled them in a pan on the stove.

They were amazing.

I put them in a cooler pan when they were finished and handed them around to everyone outside. Jeanie’s Potatoes were a big hit.

And so were my pan-grilled vegetables.

Matthew tells me I’m so “domestic.” I hope to God I just take after my mother.


I love to sit back and watch happy people interact. Everyone was content, everyone was laughing, everyone was having a good time. There were no weekend demands tugging on our sleeves. There were no pressures, no cares. We were college students having a briie outside, enjoying the company of a worldly bunch.

What if the world could get along the way we do? Maybe we should all be diplomats and ambassadors. Maybe that should be a new diplomatic strategy – a bring-your-own-meat,-we’ll-provide-the-beer-and-potatoes briie.


For dessert, Jamie, the other American, bought wafer crackers, a chocolate bar and flavored marshmallows (the closest things to graham crackers, Hershey’s chocolate and regular white marshmallows). And we, the Americans, roasted those marshmallows while Jamie broke off pieces of chocolate to stick between two pieces of wafer. We created a Ford-like assembly line to make our s’mores, and we delivered them to all the foreigners. Though they weren’t the real thing, it was a taste of home for us, and we were happy.

Other dessert dishes, native to various places around the world, were passed around and eaten with swigs of beer. The Dutch girls sat against the wall of the house, smoking a Hookah while Shane played his guitar and sang them songs.

The Chinese girl, the Singaporean, the Oklahomans, some Dutch boys and the German guy stood and sat around talking about jokes from our individual countries. The Dutch tried to teach us Dutch, and we were made to look stupid trying to pronounce the “rrrr’s” and the hocks.


At around ten or so, the Dutch girls parted to enjoy the night on the town. And at around 11, Madison, Matt, Carmen and I took popcorn and a case of DVDs to my house. We popped real popcorn in the pot, salted half and sweetened the other, and brought it into my room.

The Little Mermaid took us back to yesteryear for an hour and a half. Madison, Matt and I sang with every song and admitted our fears of Ursula and her eels.


Today, I’ll spend the day in happy contentment with myself.
Tomorrow begins Week 3.