Whew! Communication!!!

Hello dearest friends and family!
I am FINALLY in town and able to access the internet, albeit for a short time. So this will be quick. One of the nicest bits about my "job" is eating. One thing I neglected to mention to my Mom was the veritable feasts we eat at each meal. Yes, I do chop onions at about one tenth the speed of the kitchen guys, Boni (head chef and avid "Bombo flavah" listener), second in command Stanley--a skinny young looking fellow with a deeper than James Earl Jones voice, and above me in the pecking order Joshua, a soccer fanatic and former tractor driver. Sometimes I even get to smash garlic in the mortar and pestle (apparently I don't do that right either). Really, I think they think that I'm pretty pathetic in the kitchen, which sort of makes me feel indignant everytime I offer to cook my own breakfast and they sort of hover over me like "Poor thing, barely can crack an egg!" Ah well, give me a familiar kitchen and then I'll show them. ;)
The front of house staff are slowy, slowly teaching me Swahili and generally befriending me. Everyone is really wonderful in general. There are two dobermans on the island who are my constant companions, as long as no one better is around, ie a guest who will give them table scraps and let them sleep on the bed. As for accomodations I've been moving from empty banda to empty banda and for two notable nights took up residence in the laundry room under a mosquito net (malaria is ridiculously common here, almost everyone knows someone who's died from it--no worries I'm faithfully taking my anti-malarial meds!). The worst part about living in the laundry was it's lack of "facilities"--no shower, and worse no toilet. So I had two options, walking upstairs to the unenclosed one right off the managers bedroom or walking down the path to one in the main room of the lodge. So there I would lie at 2 am debating my course of action and inevitably to the gentle shrieks of the bushbabies I would venture outside, scurrying and deathly afraid of running into one of the Masaai night guards or worse some posionous night creature. But it was always uneventful. And really, the Masaai guys are really nice but they do look fierce or "kali" with their big knives and bludgeon like clubs. Actually I guess that most guards here in Tanzania are Masaai because they have the reputation of being the badass tribe of East Africa. I guess that comes from drinking cows blood ala milk... Well I must be off, the managers are done with their emailing so away I go to wherever they're going, a seriously lack of autonomy I must admit. But I will be staying at Lazy for a bit longer and then hopefully will have more email access. Everything in accordance with Swahili time as they say, meaning no schedule, no deadlines and no worries...sort of. ;) I hope all of you are well and I miss you all so keep in touch! Much love!

Sara