Kandle

I haul my water out of a deep well dug straight through dirt. I can see the roots of the mango tree pushing out through the wall in the top-most 10 feet. I know I use roughly 45 liters of water on a non-laundry, non-house cleaning day. Despite this level of rustic, despite weekly knocking new termite tunnels off my wells, combating rotating infestations of little ants, big ants, flying cockroaches, frogs, lizards, pill bugs, and spiders, despite knowing I will have frequent power outages that coincide with rains, despite all that, I have internet fast enough that I can video skype and watch youtube videos.

I have a kindle. This kindle holds a charge for a remarkably long time, so it is relatively immune to power outages. However, this is one of those kindles that is not back-lit, so it needs some source of illumination. When the power is out, light bulbs are also, so the next line of lighting is headlamp, which has a shorter charge than the kindle. On more than one occasion, I found myself wanting to read my kindle, but the only lighting option was a candle. I find this hilarious – my books are electronic, but my illumination is not? Oh world, you are a tricky little thing. One night, I was reading in bed with my “Kandle” set-up and the candle fell over and spilled wax everywhere. Yargh.

When I lived in the States, I had a dumb phone, a computer, and a USB flash drive. Here, I have all those things, plus a blackberry and a modem that both take mini-SD cards, I have a universal charger, and an external hard drive. I feel I've jumped 10 years forward in technology, and 50 years back in most other things.

On my volunteer stipend, it is worth it, financially and in terms of time/effort, for me to pay a laundry lady, a garden guy, and water luggers. 1 person, 1 house, many helpers.

I am not a hipster, and never have been. The other day, I found myself cycling home at sunset on my gears-less bike with a yoga mat strapped to the back, and I felt like a hipster. But it’s because I can’t have a car, and there are really only two kinds of bike sold in this district; neither have gears.

Life is funny, twisted, darkly-humored, and playfully jestful here in Mandimba. Really, very few days are ever dull, and it throws routine life back in the states in an absurdist, aqua-checkered light some days. Absolutely, some days here seem to roll out under flashing disco ball of ridiculousness as well.

9 more weeks, Mandimba! I can do it.