A life less comfortable

I've been home alone for a little over a week now. Steve and Sam are in Cameroon with Joe and Meg. They are there to help with some issues that have arisen of late. I had a plan. I was going to repaint the entire annex part of the guest house on Monday through Wednesday. This included transforming Steve's tiny office into a tiny over-flow guest room. We are a small guest house but we are a busy one. Many times four bedrooms is just not sufficient. By the weekend we were going to be full and need that over-flow guest room. I peeled off old wallpaper and painted for hours over three days with the help of our guardian Gustave. We finished painting and moved furniture around and hung African art on the walls and by Wednesday late afternoon we were finished. I was tired but content with the work. Then I awoke on Thursday morning to the sound of water sloshing around outside my window. I discovered our Gabonese teammate Maman Celine outside trying to clear away standing

Last night I walked into the living room (where Sam and Steve were watching Ultimate Survivor) just in time to see Bear Grylls' eyes light up as he cried out "tinder fungus!" He then crashed through the soggy forest floor, running towards a slender tree with a shelf-like mushroom growth jutting out of it. He pulled it off the tree and began to explain that Tinder Fungus is a type of fungus that holds a coal very well for a long period of time, and ignites easily. This was, Bear explained, an important discovery in early civilizations that enabled hunters to go farther from home without the fear of being without a fire. Wow, portable fire nestled within fungus. That Bear Grylls, always a fount of knowledge! Tinder Fungus is a natural way to transport a spark of fire covered with moss long distances. Bear, in fact, lit a bit of tinder and pushed it deep into the fungus then covered it with moss and put it in his ever present backpack. He took it out from time to ti

A small concrete block building, two main rooms with a few smaller spaces made out of flimsy plywood walls and curtained doorways. Unadorned smooth concrete floors meet mismatched plastic chairs lined up in an L-shape along the wall. A rough plywood desk divides the patient area from the pharmacy area. I've been sitting in that small pharmacy area counting out pills for patients and learning to take blood pressure with the automatic cuff every morning this week. I sit under the watchful eyes of Mama Jeanine and Mama Perine. Mama Jeanine is a Bongolo taught nurse that has been running the clinic for years. I've known Mama Jeanine since we first moved to Libreville a little over two years ago but have just begun to help out at the clinic. What can I say about Mama Jeanine... she is a force to be reckoned with, she loves laughter and playing practical jokes, she is a leader, she works hard but believes in having fun along the way. She said to me just the other day, "w