I think I will hang up cloves of garlic in my room to protect me from bloodsuckers.
(Is THAT where Bram Stoker got his inspiration? Because it’s true! Mosquitoes HATE garlic.)
Jimmy and Mark told lots of stories yesterday about the times they were almost kidnapped by the LRA. (They grew up here in Kitgum.)
I wish that my skin were made of something whereby every time a mosquito alighted upon it, the mosquito would turn into a butterfly. Or die. Either one, really.
STILL no power. And the water is gone again. And yesterday we didn’t have phone network coverage. But Flor and I have been staying up late at night, cooking pasta on the gas stove and alternatively talking and reading in the living room, by the light of an oil lamp. And each evening the sunset out back has been more and more spectacular, and each night the stars (“gliss-ee-ay” in Acholi Luo) have shined down upon us, the Milky Way a deep slash across the sky.
Mark says the power’s coming back tomorrow evening. He talked to a worker to get the lowdown. Yesterday they couldn’t work because they had no gasoline for their cars. The rain has knocked down so, so many poles. Ugh! I. Want. Power!!!