What a Day (or half of one)

So it is currently 1pm in Kolda, Senegal.

I have been up for seven hours and ridden a roller coaster of emotions that has left me drained, yet thankfully positive, and the day is not even half over. This country is killing me softly.

I got up at o' dark thirty to be the first one at the bank because I had about 12 cents to my name. Since it is the end of the month, the bank is ridiculously busy with people getting money wired in from France and Spain. So I was first in line, and out the door no more than 10 minutes after they unlocked the doors.
Yeah!

Then I went to the Post Office where I had a very pleasant experience with the man there who gave me a package from my mom's best friend. And it was a seriously good package. THANKS!!
Yeah!

Then Meg and I found a new bean sandwich lady and they were amazing! And we all know how much I do like my bean sandwiches!
Yeah!

Then I went to the other side of the Post Office where I wanted to mail my Valentine's Day cards. The guy behind the counter wanted to RIP ME OFF hard core. And I wasn't having it. My friend Ibu even came over and because the other guy outranked him, he couldn't say anything. I was so mad. The Post Office should be the ONE place the color of my skin should not matter - its a government office for crying out loud. So I grabbed my letters like a child, wagged my finger at them, and huffed off. So dramatic. I was punishing no one but myself, and I knew it.
Boo!

So I walked across the street where I met a very nice Wolof man (and there aren't very many of them in Kolda) who sold me green and yellow paint at a fair price and made me smile again.
Yeah!

Take note, it is only 9am at this point!

I then walked to the World Vision office where Jess, Kirsten, Meg and I were supposed to have a meeting. I got there with time to spare just to find out that the meeting (that we all went out of our way to get to having only been told about it a day ago) is actually tomorrow. No skin off my back, but Jess and Kirsten had to get back, and they can't come tomorrow.
Boo!

I used the opportunity to probe about my health poste which nearly gave me a heart attack! I was told that the Chef de Medecin in Kolda just left town for EIGHT MONTHS!!! And nothing can happen in the medical world of Kolda without his permission.
My World Vision guy saw my heart fall into my stomach as he said it and quickly added that a temporary replacement is arriving today and that the Chef gave official approval of my health poste prior to his departure.
At this point I began breathing again!
I then asked WHEN construction will start. To which I was told "before June" (the date I have been assured it will be open by). So I asked again, WHEN? And I got the same answer.
Now, I know I am getting a BOATLOAD of money from these people, but I am SO sick of non-specific, non-commital answers.
So I got fussy.
And the Senegalese don't know how to handle fussy American girls.
So he told me to WAIT.
He fumbled for his phone, made a call and quickly amended his response.

I WILL HAVE MASONS IN THIEWAL LAO BY FEBRUARY 28, 2009!
And that's all I wanted to know.
Yeah!

So once I caught my breath, settled down, salvaged my working relationship and got over myself, I calmly thanked World Vision and quietly left.
That wasn't so hard, now was it?!?!!?

I've now been to the market where I had a lovely time with the ladies at the vegetable stands. I've gotten some work done and eaten a very healthy, vegetable-packed lunch and think I am now going to bed.
Thanks for listening to my rant. The drama is oh, so ridiculous. I am WAY too emotionally involved, and I think I am entirely ok with that.

I hope you all have a calm, uneventful day.

Due to Weather

Over 33 hours, four states and two continents I cried approximately nine times in public. In airports, actually, very busy and densely crowded airports. Not the mild, twinge of sadness kind of cry, but the gasp for air, slightly choking kind of pity sob that attracts attention in such places as very busy airports.
I went home for the holidays, back to America - land of the free and home of the delayed departure. The phrase 'due to weather' ravaged my brilliantly constructed itinerary and threatened to ruin perhaps the greatest surprise of my life: surprising my Mom for Christmas with a homecoming from Africa. I narrowly escaped the Detroit airport five hours before it closed and spent the night with 50 of my newest friends in the Minneapolis airport after we were thrice denied The Good Life 'due to weather.'
I suppose distance makes the heart grow fonder, but international flights just make it act irrationally. I was begging, praying and bargaining with the Gods and/or NWA officials to get me home and 13 hours after my scheduled arrival I was in Omaha, along with the freaking cold weather, ice and snow. Not quite life as I've known it on the equator, but it looked pretty good to me.
So I made it, baggage and all. And my Mom was surprised, only because we lied shamelessly to keep the secret. But it was a perfect trip home, and maybe I even appreciated it more due to the weather.
Happy New Year to Everyone!