Sunday was a very eventful day, despite not getting very much done. I did my laundry, the biggest to date at Kaaga, and scaved off as long as I could from being asked about church. Eventually, when the laundry was finished and I had fed myseld a nice eggs and potatoes breakfast, I decided to head on over to the dining hall. I needed to meet Reverend Margaret, whom is deaf, anyway for a technology favor she asked. I helped her out with finding files and connecting the printer onto her dinosaur Comcast, I think it was. After, I wandered around Kaaga a spell to find any free wifi. To my surprise, I found 2 but they kept slipping out of range, gr. I gave up and returned to the school. It was about that time that I was overwhelmed by a strange sense of despair. It was almost as if the immortal despair from one of Gaiman’s comics had sprung to life and gave me a kiss. Overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of an emotion I hadn’t felt as strongly since the middle of 2009, I retreated to the safety of my house. It was there, from my kitchen window, that I saw the cause of my despair and I could only think of James Cameron’s Avatar and how everything is connected on Pandora. A mango tree, towering over the entire road at the back end of the compound, aged at 105 years met its end taking down power lines in its wake. Nature’s revenge, I say. That and it was a particularly windy day in additoon to termites thriving at the tree’s base. Sometimes, I wonder if some things happen so that one particular thing can happen. I noticed the wind didn’t start up again that day. Naturally, everyone in the neighborhood heard the cracks and fall. Soon, there was a crowd all around the fallen. I forgot to mention that the tree fell right on the T intersection thus halting all traffic. The vocational boys and I started helping push away the trunk pieces off the road as men hacked away at the tree with chainsaws. At times, I saw the surprised faces of locals upon seeing an American being involved to help. Towards the end, a chameleon was found perched on the branches that had once overlooked most of Meru. Within seconds, I was parading the lizard around leaving a trail of screams ranging from treble to bass in my wake. Quite hilarious to witness composed Kenyans, some quite respected in the community, transforming into something that comes from the most basic part of ourselves. I’m talking about the screams that have the mouth wide open, hands flailing, and a running retreat that is almost aimless. All because of a 4 inch chameleon in its tan form speckled with white and brown. (The chameleon changed to a dark brown when a Kenyan was holding it, very cool!)

There was no power that night. I managed to make a tamu sana green bean salad with fried arrowroot and red onions. Mm m.

I just found out that some of the vocational boys that I’ve been getting close with are 22-26. Such a weird feeling being able to tell them what to do. This experience is truly trying my interpersonal relations across age lines.