Home again

The past three weeks I was away from my village for early service training and water security training. I attended both trainings with my counterpart, who is my village executive officer. I think we both learned a lot during the trainings, and it was great getting to spend time with everyone in my class, but these three weeks were very draining. 

On my way back, I was anticipating being able to get money in my banking town, but as things are wont to go, my efforts at the ATMs were stymied. So yesterday I bussed up to my "other" banking town, and luckily was able to get money there, although the bus ride there was a bit traumatizing as the vehicle must have been violating more safety regulations than usual. Long story short, I have a massive bruise on my knee and an oath never to ride that death trap again. 

After the grueling ride, I was walking through the bus stand, looking for my favorite conductor, when two ladies called me by my tribal name. In town I usually ignore pretty much everyone, unless of course they call me by name. I didn't know the ladies very well, but they knew me, and my sense of humanity started to come back into focus, as the misery of the bus ride subsided slowly. 

I had some time to kill so I got a shortbread cookie at the Indian grocery, bought dried chickpeas, and went fabric shopping and found three kitenge I had been looking for. 

I went back to the standi and found my conductor. We laugh about how we was supposed to bring bread for another volunteer who lives on my road, but due to communication issues that mission failed. We buy her more and wait in the dusty sun for it to be time to leave. 

And I went back to my village. Many are happy to see me and welcome me back and ask about where I was. Night falls and I get chai and doughnuts at my favorite chai house, and walk back home through the field of pigeon peas, shadows falling in the moonlight.