Who moves to Africa and catches a cold? Apparently, I do.
I’m pretty sure it’s not the chilly 80° weather that’s to blame, but rather the dry air and dust. After fighting it for a couple days, today I caved in and went back to bed at about 10am. And I’m still here, seven hours later, doing a whole lot of nothing much. In a show of solidarity, the power went off this morning and hasn’t come back on yet either.
Cheikh has been attending a conference here in Dakar this week, so I’ve been (wo)manning the fort. Here are couple things my daily routine now includes:
- Walking to a couple fruit and vegetable stands to buy whatever we need that day.
- Greeting the guard who sits across the street, who loves to tease me that Cheikh should take a second wife so that she could run errands for me.
- Soaking fruits and veggies in a tub of cold water + 1/2 teaspoon of bleach for about 10 minutes.
- Drinking no less than 3 liters of water.
- Flicking the light switch to see if the power is on yet.
- Refilling the water filter bucket.
- Washing my dusty feet. (Repeat as needed.)
- Wondering what the nutritional value of soured milk (soow) / fermented manioc (attieke) / millet (thiere) is.
- Flicking the light switch again to see if the power is on yet.
- Watching the scenes from the kitchen window as if it were a tv show.
- And at night, watching Cheikh do the mosquito dance whereby he shakes all our clothes hanging in the closet to scare out the mosquitos, then swats at them declaring, “I got it!” as if ‘it’ was the only one. 🙂