Words words words. I don't know how to start. It's becoming the dry season now, daily rains giving way to long hot dusty days. The school is deserted, the teachers and students moving back into the deep village for harvesting. It's quiet.
And just like that weeks of frustration were razed to the ground and I get to start fresh all over again. Two days later and I'm still glowing. I chased off three people who thought I was away and had come to rob my house. I fished a dead rancid rotting lizard out of my sofa cushions when I noticed the horrible smell. I ate beans and rice for three hundred and eightieth sixth time. But I don't care. I love it here. The highs tower above the lows.
The next morning I woke up early and went to get a cup of milk tea and a plate of cassava. I saw a co-reveler from the night before. He politely inquired about the status of my hangover (incredibly non-existent) before, like a proud father, adding, "You learned a lot last night."