I’m nursing another stomach ache when the village loses its electricity.
The girls drag me into the yard where I watch them dance and giggle in moonlight and I’m reminded, again, of how lucky I am to have been placed in this gorgeous family. I take turns picking up Are and Pel and they wrap their dirty little feet around my waist and stare at the moon with big black baby eyes. Pel and I have started to communicate little words and phrases and this feels like incredible progress—I’m inspired to study the language harder just by the prospect of gaining a relationship with her.
Eventually the ache worsens and I retire to my room to lie in the dark and wait for the cramping the pass. I count the days until I acquire a kitchen and the freedom to prepare and eat meals without fear of illness. Never thought I’d rue the food over the bucket baths, but there you have it: self discovery.
Robala Sentle Good night
from a tiny cement bedroom with pink flowered drapes and a tin roof in Lekwapaynge ward of Molepolole village of Botswana of Africa.