Overall, though, it was a pretty anticlimactic day. I got to Managua around noon and went straight to the Peace Corps office to lighten my load by dropping off my really thick medical file (the day I picked up my file from my nurse in DC she told me she’d been collecting a novel on me, and that was only part of it) but I didn’t run into a lot of familiar faces. I got back to my casita safe and sound and honestly felt as if I’d never left.
Monday was a whole other story, though, when I went back to school and realized that I may have left my patience somewhere in DC. I think having had that little taste of my former life and knowing that I will have it again so very soon and for as long as I want it, my tolerance for the screaming and disorder of my school was just very low. It was good to see everyone though, and a number of my students said they’d missed me so that was nice.
My landlord greeted me with the news that she’s hopefully found her next tenant – a Canadian Jehovah’s Witness (of which there are now 4 or 5 I think – including my doppelgangers, the blonde twins who I thought had left but apparently haven’t and I still can’t figure out why anyone would think they’re me or I’m them because whenever I see them they’re always together and I generally am the only one of me walking down the street). The lady wanted more light and air in the house (it’s a little oven in the daytime) so Monday a couple guys came down and banged a hole in my kitchen and one in my living room:
The mason standing on my kitchen counter:
1 comment:
Better to hear the vecina with?
Post a Comment