Another normal day. I come out at 5:45, to watch the hindquarters of a large horned cow trotting away from the washing line with my bread cloth. I give chase. The cow speeds up. I shout "Give that back!" and it wags its horns at me and heads across the playing field. I shout in my teacher voice "Don't even THINK about it!" The cow turns, looks at me, flicks the cloth over its shoulder where it hits the ground with a wet gooey smack, gives me a dirty look and keeps trotting. It's so slabbery and yellow that I pick it up by the clothes-peg, but my hands still feel besmirched for the rest of the day.
I go to school for Exam Day 6, and watch 75 children wilt and lie on desks. Some are trying to write well, some to think at all and others aiming to survive the afternoon in 32 degrees at 94% humidity under a zinc roof. The two last arrivals have only a stool to use as a desk. I stand throughout.
I come home in time to mash chickpeas into peanut butter and call it hummous. I notice while I'm kneading dough for flatbread that I've slowed down. I'm kneading gently, more in the spirit of Mozart and less the frantic Led Zeppelin of last week. I sift through the rice for the three resident types of grub: the black ones, the orange straight ones disguised as rice grains, and the tiny brown worm types.
We're asleep by nine. In honour of San Juan, tomorrow night people will be getting extremely drunk (starting early afternoon) and then walking on burning coals. The party is RIGHT outside our house. We're getting the sleep stocked up in advance!