handwritten

From my personal, handwritten journal, sometime earlier this year...

We had a welcoming party at L's last night, for the new volunteer, S. I made borscht, which didn't turn out as delicious as I had hoped, but was still good, and well-received. Ziggy [L's cat] and Shaka [L's dog] also enjoyed the borscht, even though it was vegan. Then we drank, and drank. S wanted to see the local lifestyle, so around midnight we drove to the bar. The bar was closing up but we hung around in the dark outside the defunct filling station for awhile, talking.

The night was mildly humid and overcast, the stars indistinct under a veil of cloud but the arch of the Milky Way was still discernible. You could hear and smell the penned-up sheep next to the bar. K's Hilux was idling on the road, playing - of all things! - Australian Aboriginal music. The eerie thrum of the didgeridoo wound out into the night, punctuated by the shrieks and chirrs of the musician barking into his instrument, that termite-hollowed cylinder of wood. As the didgeridoo faded away, low chanting and drumming rose to take its place. K's half-dozen passengers got in, got out again, went to pee, wandered drunkenly around, and generally prevented him from driving away.

C [my boss] was there and we talked, happy and tipsy, telling each other how much we like to know WHY things are the way they are. "I like you," he said, "because you are always telling me the whole explanation - like when we were in Swakopmund and I asked why the ocean waves move like that, you told me the whole reason, with the moon and the tides and everything. Most people won't tell you."

"Wow! Well, I like you," I replied, "because most people are not interested in knowing how things work and why they do the things they do!"

"I know!" he said, laughing.

We both laughed, and clapped each other on the shoulder. A drunken exchange of sentiment, perhaps, but so important to me. I will miss C a lot. He's one resident of D'kar that I really want to return to in the future.