Cause your mom needs to know where she stands

Let me first state that I can't believe I've actually managed to get this posted.

Frustration is an integral part of daily life. If I didn't spend at least half of my time completely annoyed at the heat/mosquitos/flies/goats/donkeys/children/overall quality of life, I'd probably be kind of bored. Anyway, I've resolved to attempt to do this a little more often, so please, don't give up on the blog yet.

It's been a jarring month, and I'm at a bit of a loss as to where to begin describing it. I feel as though everything requires, at the very least, a preliminary description of my environment, but I've got over 20 pages of written material, mostly just explaining the animals around here. Thus, I'm going to keep it topical and leave the in depth diatribes for future posts.

We are one with nature here. Life is dictated by its whims, and it's an aspect of existence that I hadn't really fully considered before my arrival. During the just over a month that I've been here, I estimate that I've spent a collective 6 to 7 hours indoors. I sleep outdoors, take language classes outdoors, bathe outdoors, and generally spend about 5 minutes a day changing my clothes inside. Houses double as ovens, as the heat absorbed by the mud walls during the days seeps out in a hot, languid ether of discomfort.

I'm about halfway through my training, in a small city called Kaedi, next to the Senegal river. It being the rainy season, we are blessed two or three times a week with a veritable deluge. Watching the thunderstorms and sandstorms literally roll over the landscape and overcome everything in their path will instill the fear of God in anyone. Unlike the storms I saw in the states, in which the sky just turns kind of gray and drizzles turn gradually into downpours, the storms here can be seen from miles away. They are preempted by a gorgeous, nonstop display of lightning.

Let's see. I managed to get what some people were calling dysentary, and I shit blood for a few days. That's a good time.

For my birthday I ate a sandwich, and I consider it one of the best birthdays I've ever had.

Some of my better friends here are a married couple. Their family has a slave.

Got some mail from Katie. A reply is slowly creeping through the Mauritanian mail system. Please send, because I've got plenty of time to reply to everyone.

My Hassiniya is still terrible, but it's coming. Otherwise, I speak French almost all the time. At the very least I'll come back fluent in something.

And I'm not going to try my luck much farther than that. Keep the comments coming, because I devour them. Questions are welcome, and I'm going to try to return tomorrow with a more substantial post on a smaller topic.

Keep it real. Cause I have no choice over here.