so what exactly do we do all day?

It's hard to believe that we've been living independently in Kibakwe for two months now. We have worked really, really hard to make our house as comfortable and inviting and lovely as possible, and this is primarily what we've been doing for the last two months. And we're not done yet. I think that I am much more productive when my living situation is calm and pleasing; this is why we're spending so much time on our house. The bathroom is almost completely tiled; many are broken, unfortunately, but the hardware store ran out of tile, so we had to use the broken ones anyway. We're considering it a mosaic design. Tony and our houseboys dug out the perimeter of our garden, and our boys have started gathering wood to use for our fence. Last week I taught 7 neighbor kids how to bake banana bread; this was a huge hit. Some of them knocked on our door two days ago and asked to be taught how to make chocolate cake--we're doing that next week. When I walked into town a few days ago to buy tomatoes and onions, my favorite veggie vendor said she heard that I bake cakes and that she would like to learn, too. Word is traveling fast. Whoever would have thought that my cake-baking obsession would link me with my new Tanzanian friends? So that's the scoop--we're setting up our house, hanging out with good kids, cooking and baking. Next week we're painting our bedroom, and hopefully our water storage tank (for collecting rain water off our roof--the rains will start next month, and we want to collect them for our garden) will be started. Still no place for our clothes--we continue to wait for the carpenter to finish our kabati ("cabinet for clothes.") We won't actually plant our garden until the rains start--there's just not enough water right now to get it started. In case I haven't mentioned it, scarcity of water is one of the biggest problems in the region where we live. Sometimes our water pump shoots water out (maji mengi="much water"), sometimes it trickles water (maji machache="few water"), and sometimes no water at all (hamna="none.") Last month our entire town of Kibakwe didn't get a drop of water in ANY of the pumps for 4 entire days. Major problem. Tony and I have several large plastic buckets that we try to keep completely full of water; this is what we used for cooking, drinking, bathing and cleaning for those 4 scary days. By the time the water returned, we were down to our last bucket. We can't figure out where exactly the water starts or who is in charge of it or why its dispersion is such a problem. No one seems to understand, actually.

One tidbit we learned this morning from our Peace Corps friends who are just finishing their two years of service here: packages are more likely to arrive here (without thievery or us paying customs fees) if they are sent in padded, bubble envelopes and weigh under 4 pounds. Obviously, this isn't always possible, but it's worth mentioning, just in case you're thinking of sending any treasures to us...

So how are we REALLY doing? It's hard to say. Without question, this has been the most challenging and frustrating experience of my life. Our lives here are still taking shape, and we still haven't figured out our place in Kibakwe or how we can help. We are still learning our way around our town, trying to remember people's names, trying to observe the rhythms of life here, trying to master this language. Some days we can't bear to leave our house; sometimes it just feels overwhelming to walk into town and have stunted conversations with people when all we really want to do is buy our eggs and rush back home. Some days we have a bunch of kids in our courtyard, looking at our maps and reading our English/Kiswahili dictionary, and everything feels good. Some days we get under each other's skin and fight; other days we just laugh and laugh and laugh at ourselves. We're here for a reason, and we remind ourselves of that every day. One thing is certain: we are more committed to each other than ever, and we daydream about the day we'll settle down (where? Excellent question!) and have a big old house filled with dogs and maybe kids and a big garden and a kitchen full of friends & family and warm chocolate chip cookies and vases of flowers and soft cotton sheets on our big bed and maybe, just maybe, a fire crackling in the fireplace. Indoor plumbing would be nice, too.