Today, the cook arrived and changed my life. A short, round man with a friendly gap-toothed smile, he got here just in the nick of time to jolt me from my subsistence food stupor.
I gave him basic ingredients, and in return, he gave me a delicious meal of grilled chicken, white rice, and garlic tomato sauce, a portion large enough for lunch and dinner. I spent the afternoon sneakily walking by the kitchen and taking huge whiffs of chicken sizzling on the air, ecstatic that it was being made for me.
And after I finished lunch and safely tucked away the leftovers for dinner, I nearly skipped away to my room, belching happily all along the way.
Feeling energized (the miracle of protein!) I went for my first bike ride since arriving to Morrumbala, and quickly learned that dry sandy streets are easily as treacherous as wet rainy ones. The ride to a friend’s house was enough of a constant incline for me to happily exert a little effort. The ride home, during which I rotated my pedals approximately 4 times, was infinitely more challenging as I skidded through inches of sand, even dismounting at one point to walk through a particularly challenging patch as bike taxis swerved around me carrying passengers and bags of charcoal. It was my first time, so I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.
After a satisfying dinner of cold leftovers, I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, stepping squarely on a squishy, squeaky toad as I left my room. Lifting my foot, I found that he was not dead, and soon was chasing him back out onto the patio, hoping from a safe distance that I didn’t break any of his tiny toady bones. I guess that’s what you get for lurking in doorways.
To round out a very satisfying day, I gave the cook money to buy me eggs, which he assures me he can find despite my futile and fruitless searches. I have no doubt he knows exactly where to look.
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