I went for a run at 5:30 am the other day and it was still pitch black outside. I was feeling just a tad unhealthy after finding out that I had gained about 10 pounds since I got here (unfortunately, we have a scale sitting here at Vivre Mieux . . . to weigh patients . . . and I'm worrying about my weight . . . sigh). As I was running on the lone paved road leading into the mountains, the sun rose and there was a fine mist hanging over the low-growth shrubs and trees. The air was so humid it was basically wet and I was enjoying the cool breeze. Three months ago, the thought "holy #$%, I'm in Africa" would have popped into my head. But, that morning, it didn't. Remind me, please, what does Canada look and feel like again?I am still learning new things everyday, though. For example, I learned how to ride a motorcycle a few weeks ago. (Don't worry mom, it went well.) And this past weekend, I learned never to take a bush taxi that has a bunch of merchants in it. The bush taxi's roof was fully loaded with sacks of maize that kept on leaking grains the whole ride, so we had to stop about 10 million times to re-fasten the sacks. Inside this bush taxi (size of a mini van, a really old and dirty van), the women were hugging giant open basins full of this red liquid, oily sauce with pieces of fat floating in it--I was very amazed that this didn't spill on anyone during this 3-hour trip. Oh also, there was this tailor with his sewing machine and sewing table, too. In addition to the 10 million times we stopped to refasten the maize, the driver was also sweet enough to drive off the road to each vendor's market stand to unload their maize/sewing table/vats of sauce. So, basically, a trip that takes 1.5 hours (without stopping) to cover 125km, took twice as long. And all this with the luggage and 15 people stuffed into a 7-person van. Gotta love this sort of bush taxi ride while sharing a seat with another person and sitting on one bum-cheek the whole time.
