When it rains, usually…

Last night in Thies.  Spent the night at a restaurant, eating Croque Madame and drinking a Sprite to the stories of fellow volunteers.  I have lived a relatively tame life to say the least.  It is pouring rain.  Pouring in sheets of water that make the road outside the restaurant a river.  We push our chairs in to avoid getting wet out on the verandah.  Water is rushing down the street.  It smells of human feces and we are running through it, cars spraying muddy water all over us.  Evan unfortunately illuminates the edge of the river with his flashlight to watch clumps of pooh run down-road.  I’m trying hard to think of Hawaii waterfalls and clean California spring-fed creeks in the Sierras.  A taxi usually costs 500 cfa but in the mud and wet its 1,000 cfa.  Sure.  Get in.  We’ll hibiclens our feet tonight for sure.


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