17 August 2003

Sometimes, I'm struck by the absurdity that I'm in Africa. For example, yesterday I was sitting in a matatu with a little square speaker hanging right next to my left ear. It was blasting out this awful, tinny, high-pitched music and the woman next to me on my right was screeching out the same song in an equally high-pitched, tinny voice. I just sat there, thinking, "Dear Jesus, I do not belong here."

It was just so absurd.

Now we're in Kisumu for Field-Based Training and we walked by the giant market. Mamas lined the street, selling fried fish, assorted vegetables, ripe fruits and suddenly I can not believe I am in Africa. Africa. But at the same time, it's become an almost numb feeling, like....numb. I'm not excited or in awe or feeling like, "oh my god." Maybe the word is detatched. I feel detatched. It's so unrealistic and totally not a part of my life as I know it. Or knew it.