Stuck in traffic?
Thirsty? Needing a cell phone cover, a steering wheel cover or some dish cloths? Some roasted cashew nuts or perhaps some fried termites?
Well, here in Tanzania we have customer service that allows you to shop from the comfort of your own car!
(Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of the guy selling large pruning shears. I was afraid of what he would do to me if he saw me taking his picture.)
This one may not be that significant for those who have never been to Dar es Salaam, but for those of you who have, you understand how miraculous it is that New Bagamoyo is finally being doubled: from Mwenge to Tegeta. It’s true….it’s finally happening.
The new road is to the right….can you see it?
So.
I expect to see comments of Hongera…..because yes, this is exciting. Or rather, it will be, one day, when it is finished.
And Pole Sana….because yes, our driving lives are as miserable as you would imagine them to be, as we go through six detours and dodge heavy equipment every day.
These days, this is my favorite household product:
Not only does it kill these, which are our constant companions almost every day of the year,
But it also kills these, which like to jump out of the kitchen cabinets at me.
And most recently, it’s very useful for killing these:
Yes, they are definitely as bad as they look.
And the night before last, Sam woke me up at 4 in the morning because one had just stung her in her bed.
*shiver*
*double shiver*
You got that right.
It stung her through her shirt, so it wasn’t worse than a bee sting. But it was in her bed! I got my can of Doom and we searched the room for 20 minutes but couldn’t find it, so finally she just slept the rest of the night in my room. Twice I’ve found them in my kids’ beds….thankfully the kids weren’t in them at the time.
And this morning, there was one under Grace’s backpack.
And that’s why Doom is my favorite product.
For now and all eternity.
(Pictures of bugs are not to scale. Mosquitoes are, well, mosquito-sized. Cockroaches are two inches long, and centipedes are 4-5 inches long. *shiver*)
Early this morning, I put my Big Guy and my Little Guy into a taxi before the sun came up and sent them off to the airport.
And now they are in Kenya at a conference that I was looking forward to…for years, actually. Our mission’s All-Africa Conference that happens only once every two years, when all the missionaries from all over Africa come and meet together. And national pastors come too–strong men of God with incredible faith and amazing stories. And we get excellent teaching and music and encouragement and prayer.
Deep conversations with like-minded friends. Strategic planning for the future. Excitement at what God is doing all over Africa.
And they’re at Brackenhurst. One of those lush, green, cold, mountainous conference centers with great food that I don’t have to cook, and a kids’ program, and no sweating. I’ve been looking forward to going back since 2007.
But here I sit, in my bedroom. Sweating. And I cooked my own dinner.
It’s all because of this little sweetie.
Lily’s adoption has yet to be finalized. And we can’t get her a passport until then, which means she can’t leave the country. Which means I can’t leave the country.
I suppose it’s not unheard of to let a three-year-old stay with friends for five days. But not when the particular three-year-old has only been in the family for 8 months. The bonds that hold us are still quite fragile. And I’m not willing to take that risk.
My wonderfully sweet husband offered to let me go instead of him, back when we realized that this would happen. He knew how much I wanted to go to this conference. But for a number of reasons, we knew it would be best for him to go.
I got over my pity-party a while ago, so I’m not feeling too terribly sorry for myself tonight. Because you know what? Lily is totally worth it. Not for one moment would I change my mind about anything that led up to this.
And so it’s just us girls in the house this week: Grace, Lily, Sam, and me. Even the dogs are girls, including the one we are dog-sitting for another friend who went to Kenya. No stinky boys allowed. (Sigh….except I’m going to miss those stinky boys an awful lot.)
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